


The Library

by SeradeBlack



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Storybrooke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeradeBlack/pseuds/SeradeBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storybrook remains cursed.  Mr. Gold renovates a part of his house for a memorial to Belle: a library. Discovering that she lives motivates him to complete the project, thus hiring "Anna" to help him organize it. Though she's promised to another, he cannot give up hope that his Belle is not still somehere deep down within her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

CH. 1

The small town of Storybrooke, Maine was just waking up for the morning. The sun broke over the horizon at least two hours ago. A peaceful little town of odd houses, small shops and small classes in schools, it was a place to set the perfect image on a postcard.

Granny's, the family owned diner, was putting out their sandwich board of specials both at the diner and the bed and breakfast. The mechanic opened up his garage, wearing overalls and a rag from his pocket. The florist was turning his sign to welcome customers. The nuns rang the morning bells at the church and a few morning commuters began their journey to work, starting their own day and going about their unknown lives.

Doomed to live mundane lives, never knowing their true selves, the town moved on after that first stroke of the clock. Having to get up day after day, in a world with no magic, a world without a monarchy, a world without hope. Just a normal, simple process where one got up in the morning, had a shower, had a shave, had a breakfast (mostly likely prepared by their own hands over a fully functional working kitchen) and then went about their normal, unmagical, lives.

It was almost an irritating pain to tolerate, similar to what Mr. Gold was currently enduring over his morning tea as his hired help, Leroy, was hammering away hard and loud in the oversized den down the hall. With a heavy sigh, Mr. Gold reached for his cane that was resting against his right leg and steadied it so he could stand. Pressing his tie against his chest, he didn't want the end of his silk piece to brush into his still steaming cup.

The dull ache in his leg was constant, though he tends to forget sometimes that it was there. It seemed to get worse in the colder months, often finding solace late evening by the fire to keep his body warm. Down the hallway he limped, following the blasting sounds of the power tool Leroy had graduated to, after finishing with the hammer.

The hallway seemed even longer when needing to get to the end of it, but the work being done to his home was worth the sacrifice of peace. It was going to stand as a reminder of what once made someone happy. Someone he had learned did not die, but obviously did not share the love at first sight charm that many of his fellow townsfolk had discovered. He thought, of course, of David and Mary Margaret, also known as Snow White and James Charming.

Mr. Gold passed through the archway into the newly remodeled room that was once his normal den. He had torn down the ceiling, making the roof of the second floor the roof to the room. What was once a nice room with nine foot ceilings now had double the height. It was larger, windows allowing natural light to bounce off the walls creating a heaven to be cherished. He had beautiful plans for this room.

"I'm leaving for my shop," Mr. Gold said as he watched the way Leroy was balancing precariously on a ladder leaning against the wall. He had a foot on one step and a knee against the wall to affix one of the many shelves to it. He was making sure the wood was balanced and straight. "Should you need anything to finish up; you know how to get a hold of me."

"I'm probably looking at, maybe three more days, Mr. Gold," Leroy said through the mumblings of a pencil he was keeping in his teeth, using it to make small markings on the wall where to hammer the next nail.

As he turned around, Mr. Gold replied, "And I believe those were the same words you used last week." Without waiting for a retort, Mr. Gold limped towards his front door to put on his suit jacket, coat and gloves.

It had been a plan for quite some time now, his renovations. For over twenty-eight years, long since he "moved" into the house he currently resided in, he always wanted to create some kind of memorial, a reminder if you will, of his departed beloved. A library. A large, lush, well decorated library full of books that told the fairy tales they all once were and the biographies of those they were supposed to know. A safe haven that Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin, could enjoy quietly and privately, without the world knowing his inner deepest secrets of the one he lost.

The one he lost...

Or so he believed.

As the world turned so many others' lives upside down, Mr. Gold thought he knew all. He was the one that made so many arrangements, or deals, in this town, that something little, something minor, had slipped right under his nose.

A private, quarantined asylum.

A secured facility reserved for those that had either learned of the curse or tried to convince the town of its existence, sounding like a loon (children excluded) or folks that had wronged the mayor in some twisted doing. It also doubled as a jail for those necessary to incarcerate, lying to the citizens that they had been shipped out to Boston.

Mr. Gold had discovered this location, after watching an orderly enter a private code on a key pad and disappear down a hall that had an elevator that only went down further than the level of the bottom floor of the hospital. Down beneath the surface, closer to what might remain of their world, well maybe not that far.

When his presence could be overlooked, Mr. Gold merely limped over to the doorway, waved his hand over the key pad and was granted access to the hidden hallway. Flickering fluorescent lights led the way towards the elevator that only went down and as he felt the metal contraption escort him below the hospital, the doors opened to another long hallway of sterile walls and metal doors with at least four key locks to each one. Curious, one by one, Mr. Gold approached each door and looked in on the patients. There were a few familiar faces, some he had no idea who they were and Sidney Glass in the second to last cell.

The last cell looked like all the rest, except it had no name on the outside slate. All the locks appeared to be latched, which strengthened his intrigue. Carefully, Mr. Gold slid open the viewing hole to peer into the cell and see if he was familiar with its occupant. At the bang of the rusted metal sliding across, he nearly startled himself. It felt heavier than the others he'd slid open. His eyes scanned the dark room, only having a slit near the ceiling for light. At first, he couldn't make anything out, but then he focused on the silhouette of someone curled up in the corner on a seat against the wall. It was a girl. She didn't look up, but he saw her head move slightly at the sound of the metal. It was obvious she was not startled by the sound. She had long hair that covered her face like a veil.

Feeling no connection to the person in the cell, he averted his eyes and slid the metal closed once again. He balanced himself on his cane as he pivoted away, taking only a couple of steps retreating down the hall, before he heard it. A voice. A voice that was pitched enough that made him stop dead in his tracks, tilt his head enough that his brown hair fell into his eyes and glance back at the door he'd left.

"Hello?" the girl's voice asked, muffled by the layers of concrete between them. "Hello? You're not the normal one that visits me! You're someone else...can you help me?"

She's dead.

Mr. Gold felt a deep pang against his chest. Surely, that wasn't her. Surely, that wasn't...Belle. He swallowed hard, almost fearful to approach the door again, not wanting to give his hopes up. He didn't want to believe in the very idea that she...that she would still be...alive.

His cane tapped quickly against the hard floors as he went back to the door he'd just left. He slid open the metal viewing hole once again, only to be met by a pair of eyes. A pair of desperate eyes of a beautiful girl that he would never forget.

"Hello! Please, I don't know why I'm here and you're someone different-" the girl plead, her fingers nearly reaching through the hole to him once she could see him.

Mr. Gold froze, feeling his stomach churn enough to make him want to retch, but anxiety, hate, love and anger took him over. His head was light, his throat was dry and his hand that wasn't gripping his cane with white knuckles started to tremble. Hope grasped his heart like strings, binding it tightly, feeling each thread pulsing through him. He gasped, catching his breath as he looked into those eyes...the eyes of the woman he loved.

Before she was able to even finish her sentence, Mr. Gold waved his hand over the locks, summoning the only magic he had only to be used in the most extreme circumstances, and swung the door open with the strength of adrenaline he never knew he harbored. Within seconds, he was standing in the doorway to the cold cell, looking on a frail shadowed version of the girl he had fallen in love with and had sent away. The same girl that called him out for being a coward for not wanting to relinquish his power and condemning him to a life of envy and loneliness.

The girl looked stunned, amazed that she was standing in an open doorway so easily. Her rosebud lips were currently being bitten as she looked upon her rescuer with big doe eyes, unbeknownst to whom she was looking upon. Her body looked stiff, anxious, but relieved all at the same time. She had no words for him, her knight in black suit with red tie, only thankfulness. With what strength she did have, she flung herself into the arms of her savior, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, not wanting to let go. The sharp clank of his cane hitting the floor of the hallway reverberated against the walls, indicating that he had let go of it, in order to catch her.

She felt warm and soft in his arms, even coming from a cold dank cell, welcoming her as if she'd returned from a very long journey. He lost himself in her long freed locks, taking in the scent of her he had committed to memory a lifetime ago. Their bodies fit perfectly, though hers was a bit thinner since last they embraced and he made a mental note to remedy that in the very near future. His heart pound in chest like a caged bird against its confines, wanting so badly to confess his apologies and welcome her back into his life, even if it was the boring mundane one they currently resided in. What was important was that she was alive.

Finally, Mr. Gold pulled out of their shared hug to cradle her cheek in his hand to better see her. It had been too long since he was allowed to gaze upon one so beautiful that insisted she saw the man beneath the monster he had become. It was something he felt he didn't deserve, but was something he had every intention of taking.

She met his friendly face, age lines around the eyes and a warm smile that was sincere, and gave him a silent "thank you" by the movement of her lips. Her eyes deep on his.

"I believed you had died," Mr. Gold whispered to her. He ran a thumb over her lips, smiling freely and not believing that her blood pulsed through her veins just beneath his hands.

"I didn't," she started to say, her voice sounding a little parched. "I ran away, I didn't want to be home anymore, but that woman took me and locked me up-"

"That woman? Regina? The Queen?" he asked, still cradling her face in his hand. How badly he wanted to kiss her pretty lips that she had been chewing nervously.

"I don't know her name, I only see her," she said, looking away and looking down. She appeared to feel slightly self-conscious with the way he was looking at her. "I'm not crazy! Thank you! Thank you for releasing me!" Her voice was desperate, breathy.

"Of course, sweetheart," he said, almost breaking down emotionally.

"I just...thank you," she said again, hugging him again. Her grip on him was tighter than before.

Mr. Gold welcomed her once again, pulling her in close, acting as a true protector. Still, he needed to see her face, needed to touch those lips he had missed so many offerings before. He pulled her back, his thumb and forefinger holding her chin as his eyes scanned her face and she just offered a slight smile. Slowly, he moved in, practically tasting the way her soft lips would feel against his own after years of deprivation. He was close now; he could feel her breath on his face as he went in...

"Do we know each other?" the girl said, not pulling away from him, but speaking up just before he had moved too close for damage.


	2. 2

Chapter 2

Her words fell against him like a box full of needles, leaving him gasping mentally. Mr. Gold quickly aborted his sincere gesture and looked down into the face of the young woman that was still in his arms. Though she did not move her own arms from around his neck, she tilted her head in a curious manner as she studied him, as if she was trying to place his face in her memory box.

He had slight comfort in the fact that she didn't pull away or even fight him; she merely furrowed her brow, more upset with herself for not knowing who he was, rather than be repulsed by his kind gesture.

Mr. Gold's hold on the young woman slacked, slowly letting her go and giving them both personal space to breathe. Her hands slid down his shoulders and rested on his forearms, looking into his face like she was still trying to recognize him.

Catching himself and slightly embarrassed, he apologized with a heavy sigh, "I'm sorry." He should have caught himself sooner, should have never thought that she was the same. "I didn't mean to-"

She smiled and shook her head, flattery displayed over her face, "No, it's fine. It's just...do we know each other?"

Limited on answers, he tried to recover politely, "We did."

"Oh," she said. He could almost hear a tinge of regret for not knowing who he was. At least, that's what his imagination wanted to believe.

"Come," he said, hoping to break up the new tension. He placed a gentleman's hand on her lower back and said, "Let's get you out of here."

Nodding silently, she allowed him to escort her out, leaving the cold sterile cells behind them.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The reunion had been nearly three months ago. After pages and pages of tedious paperwork that Mr. Gold had to sort through, it was all settled with a bit of coercion after threatening to sue the hospital for mismanagement. There were no official records found dating back to the reason of her incarceration, as it was one of those rare situations where some paperwork must have been "misfiled" under stamped approval by the mayor. Naturally, the hospital did not want that kind of negative publicity, so the matter at hand was otherwise "dismissed" and Belle was released with a clean bill of health. Mr. Gold's business with the standing mayor would be another matter, to be addressed at a later time.

Seeing as it was not proper for Mr. Gold to take Belle, now Anna, into his own home, he sought out her father, Mo French. The bittersweet reunion did not come without some sort of anxiety on Mo's face when he was presented with his daughter by the man who had otherwise beat him to near death. It was in good faith that Mr. Gold brought Anna home to him, as the picture between the two was a sight to see, even if Mr. Gold held a darker resentment towards the man she had embraced so freely. He couldn't help but have the slightest pang of jealousy over the florist, as Belle flung her arms around him, gripping on for dear life. He was her father, after all.

Mr. Gold still sneered his upper lip ever so slightly, as he thought back on that day. He couldn't help but remember the look of fear and appreciation on Mo's face as he looked up from the arms of his only daughter. The men did not care for each other; Mr. Gold being who he was and Mo French being...just a normal man that owned a florist shop that owed a decent amount of debt to him. They still went about their arrangement, making a mental note that Mr. Gold obviously favored Anna in some way.

Now well into his work, just before one o'clock, Mr. Gold was polishing up a particular hook that he had found in a trunk stored in the back, unopened for several years. He was finding time to begin sorting out the questionable things that were gathering dust. He had acquired the most expensive metal polish that was guaranteed to shine to a perfect gleam, and once it was perfect, he would display it under the glass with several other memorable trinkets from a past life.

The store's bell chimed as someone walked in. With a boyish flick of his head to clear his hair from his sightline, he curved the side of his mouth into a slight smile as he saw his visitor. Dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans, an oversized flowery blouse with cinch belt and knee-high boots, a beautiful brunette was just carefully closing the door behind her.

"Hello Mr. Gold," Anna said, giving him a sweet grin as she looked up to see him busy.

"Hello, Miss French," he replied with a warm sincere voice. Seeing Belle, Anna, made his heart leap and being a very stoic man, he was a master of masks in hiding it from her.

Averting her eyes from his, she walked over to the first counter on the right to a narrow vase with a wilting flower that had seen better days. Its leaves were limp, its petals dried and it hung over the skinny little vase like it had lost its will to bloom.

Enter Anna.

Every week, not exactly on the same day, since she was released, Anna would come by and give Mr. Gold a flower as a small token of thanks for getting her out of "that place". Not everything could live forever, so Anna made a point to stop into his shop every week and replace the flower with a new one. A reminder for him that she was eternally grateful for the leaps and bounds and red tape he had gone through for her to come home. When asked, he denied anything she could possibly give him, so she insisted on visiting him once a week with a pretty seasonal flower.

"And what is it this week?" Mr. Gold charmed, polishing his hook and reveling in the little routine she had when she came into the shop. He loved that she would stop in, loved that she would just help herself to what she needed and he loved the fact that the vase he had taken out for her to use, was the one from his Dark Castle. So, she just dropping off a flower to him meant more than he could express. It was a reminder of the delicate care she took with the first rose he ever gave her.

"It's just a rose, today," she replied, taking a pair of scissors he always kept in the same spot for her to prune the flower before sliding it into the vase. She took the old shriveled flower away and tossed it into the small round trash can that was behind the counter, always having to lean over it to make it in. Mr. Gold put it in its precarious place for that very reason, to watch her lean over. Hey, he was only human.

"A rose is never just a rose," he added, glancing over as she leaned. His eyes always scanned the length of her, sometimes getting a slight glimpse of her thigh if she were wearing a dress. Today was not the day. "A rose has many petals that represent layers to one's intentions."

"Is that so? Well, maybe they are and for each petal I have a special thank you intended."

One could hope.

"Miss French, you never need to thank me. I've told you that seeing you out and about town is thanks enough," he said politely, never ceasing his polishing.

Replacing the scissors for her next visit, Anna glanced to the other counter where she saw two boxes overflowing with both old and newer looking books. Adjusting the strap on her shoulder bag anxiously, her eyes never left the two boxes, as if she had just seen a tempting dessert that was waiting for her. Mr. Gold sensed her distraction and slid open the glass case in front of him, gently setting down the hook he had been polishing. He bundled up his rags, recapped the polish bottle and turned to put his items away on a nearby shelf.

"What," she paused, pointing a slender finger in their direction, "are those?"

"Those are to be part of my collection at home," he said, walking the length of his counter down towards the boxes of books that she had already made a beeline for.

"Do you have a large collection? I sometimes run out, especially since they've boarded up the old library - have no idea why they did that." she said eagerly, but almost hypnotized. Her fingers slid over the binding of the first book she could reach. "Do you mind-"

"If you borrow some? No, of course not, dearie," he said, cutting her off before she even had a full sentence out. He side smirked as she watched in wonder, like he'd just offered her the keys to the city.

"Thank you," she said, relieved, for she couldn't wait to go through the boxes that were just sitting there, as if waiting for her.

And they were waiting for her. He had put them there. He knew that that day was the day she would be in to replace his flower and by turning to leave, she could not have missed them. Thus, him warming up his plan.

"I'm re-doing a room in my home to accommodate a rather large," he paused, noticing the way she glanced up to him, "book collection." Her eyes came alight and he went on, smiling ever so subtly as she easily fed into his plan, "I've got boxes of books just scattered all around this room that is almost finished, but just don't know where to start when it comes to organizing them."

Hook...

"If you need any help," she offered, pretending to look less interested with the very idea of seeing his collection.

Line...

"I couldn't ask you to do that, Miss French. There are loads of boxes," he teased.

She practically cut him off, "Oh, please, I would love to help you with them."

Sinker.

He smiled, pleased with his careful clever plan and met her eyes looking into his, so hopeful for the second time in Storybrooke. He feigned a weak shrug and succumbed to her persistence, "Well, if you insist."

"I do insist," she said, pleased with winning him over, but still pawing through the box of books sitting on the counter between them. "Sundays good for you? I know you close your shop on Sundays and my father never really needs me on those days. It would give me a wonderful reason to cancel my otherwise standing date that I usually hold on Sunday afternoons of watching sports on television."

Somewhere beneath the charcoal colored three piece suit that Mr. Gold wore, his heart fluttered at the very thought that this young woman was choosing to spend a day of her weekend at his house. It was a start.


	3. 3

Ch. 3

He knew that by the way the breeze changed through the slight open window in the kitchen that he was about to have company. He listened carefully to the natural sounds outside, listening for the sound of footsteps above the chirp of a bird or the sound of a car door closing over the rush of the brook behind his house. He knew she was close, having her planned arrival to be at eleven that Sunday late brunch time, and the fact that she was punctual on nearly every other encounter they'd had at the shop - it was always the same time of day, even if a different day.

He heard the chime of his doorbell and reached for the gold handle of his cane, propping himself up to stand. With his normal limp, he crossed his kitchen to the front foyer. He could see her silhouette through the stained glass of the front door and prepared a smile as he opened it.

"Good morning, Miss French. Punctual as always," he said, moving aside to invite her into the foyer.

She licked her lips nervously as she walked in, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her braid. "I try," she replied, taking a first look around her as she entered his home. "Wow," she exhaled her eyes as big as saucers as they perused everything hanging on the walls or displayed on nearby shelves. "I should have guessed that your home would be just as fascinating as your shop."

Closing the door behind her, he added, "I am a true collector of antiques and otherwise valuable, albeit odd things." He couldn't help but take in the tranquil scent of her perfume as she walked by, as if it were some kind of hypnotizing aphrodisiac to him. Allowing him this momentary thrill was enough to sate him for the day. As his eyes followed her, he watched as she looked around where she stood, absolutely amazed by the things he had. He caught the way her lips parted in awe as she observed everything as if in a museum. "Come, let me show you around a bit," he said, walking passed her.

Shaking herself free of her mental exploration of Mr. Gold's home, she followed behind him as he invited her to help herself to anything in the kitchen. At the same time, he offered her tea, whereas she politely accepted. Venturing further into the house, they were approaching a grand archway that was about to empty into the vast room that Leroy had finally finished, but not before Mr. Gold heard a gasp of breath from behind him.

"Forgive me, but those puppets have got to be the creepiest things I've ever seen," she said as politely as possible, not wanting to upset him, but obviously bothered by their crude appearance.

Geppetto's parents. 

"Where did you get those?" she asked, standing closer to Mr. Gold than what was deemed proper etiquette of their otherwise platonic relationship, but it was evident that they did not settle well with her.

"Would you believe me if I told you they were the product of a magical potion gone wrong?" he quipped, testing the waters. He couldn't help but give her a sly glance over his right shoulder.

"Probably not," she answered, keeping an eye on them as if they were to move on their own if she were to look away.

"Then, they're just an odd set I came across in an abandoned home," he finished. He turned to continue down towards the archway, "I'll put them away, so you can't see them." Under her breath, she thanked him and followed closely. As they walked through the archway into the new room, Mr. Gold stepped aside to allow her in further, "And this is where I'm going to keep my books."

Anna, Belle, walked into the room and immediately her entire body slowed down to a near halt. Slowly, she craned her head up, her eyes scanning the walls of empty shelves in between windows that went all the way at least eighteen feet and completely all around the room. Looking bare, but nicely varnished in a dark wood stain, the shelves were begging to be filled and as a ladder on a track poised nearby, she smiled to know that she was going to enjoy this project.

"Beautiful," she said aloud. "This room is magnificent, Mr. Gold."

"I'm pleased that you like it. I think you really have your work cut out for you," he hummed, walking over to one of the plush brown leather chairs and taking a seat.

As her eyes rounded on the room, she noticed several boxes off to the side that appeared to be some of the books in his collection and without a second's hesitation longer, she went right over to it and started to open up the first box. She started to take the first of the hard bound books out and set them on a nearby shelf, beginning to see what sort of books he had, before coming up with a system for him.

After the first few hours of Anna digging in, Mr. Gold left her be as he went off to make lunch and tend to other things amongst the house. Occasionally, he would walk in and check on her, seeing that she had only just started to sort out the third box. He managed to peek in on her, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed in the midst of several hard bound books, some older than both of them, stacked in various piles all around her like a private fortress.

She had shed her sweater on a nearby chair, exposing creamy shoulders as her hair was pulled back in the loose messy braid that fell down her neck. Mr. Gold watched her silently for a few moments, basking in the sight before him, like he knew he never deserved it. Even back then, he was torn with the flirtation of the loss of power to the young woman that had offered her heart so willingly to him and each day since he learned of her death, he had regretted it, just like she said. Perhaps if they had stayed together when the curse happened, they would have found it easier to find one another in this unforgiving world, maybe even have ended up married. As it stands, the most he'd gotten out of her was a brief weekly encounter over a new flower she would drop by his shop. But now, at least he had this project to obtain her, however how brief.

"How goes the progress?" he chimed in, leaning against the archway, looking down into her pit of literature, crossing his arms casually. He tilted his head slightly, giving him that boyish look with his hair falling into his eyes.

She looked up, wisps of hair falling around her face in the most romantic way, and met him with a smile, "Barely cracking the surface." She put the few books in her hands down and stood up, arching her back for a good stretch, revealing a near perfect figure men would kill to have in their clutches. "I'll be honest, though," she started to say, looking around the circle she had created, glancing at the stacks of unopened boxes and then at him, "this is not going to be a fast process."

"Miss French, if you still would like to do it, please take all the time in the world with it," he said, glancing down at the carpet and then back up at her, allowing himself one innocent "once over" as she stretched herself out, again.

"Are you kidding? This would be exactly how I would spend my free time, anyways," she added, stepping over her teetering stacks. Standing close to him, surveying her progress, "You have a lot of books on law."

"Call it a hobby," he crooned, glancing down between them. He found it almost difficult to look at her when exposed to so much of her bare skin, even if they were only her shoulders. "I like to know what I'm up against."

"Well, if it doesn't bother you too much, I'm going to leave it as it is, for now. I'm going to use your bathroom and then be off for the night," she said, rubbing her hands on her jeans and waiting for direction.

Begrudgingly, Mr. Gold directed her down the hallway with the point of a slender finger and shortly after, the woman in his dreams excused herself and walked out to her car that was parked in his driveway. He watched her little car come alive, watched the headlights come on and sadly, watched as she backed away from his home, disappearing down the road.

With a heavy heart, he closed his front door and turned to have his evening tea, before retiring to his own bedroom where he would ready for bed, read a chapter in his book and fall asleep in his own bed, alone. As he limped down the hallway towards the kitchen, he could smell the lingering scent of her perfume waft through his rooms, enlightening his senses.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As promised, Anna went to Mr. Gold's house on Sundays for the three weeks that followed. Dressed always very pretty and complete, she was a vision of perfection for him. Either a nice dress, skirt or relaxed pants with a complementing blouse, but then she always shed a little bit of the good manners, like losing her sweater or ballet flats, as she got down to serious business.

"I swear more books appear, than what I remember leaving," Anna said with the hint of her charming little accent as she stood up to take a cup of tea Mr. Gold was offering her.

"They do," he said quickly, sipping his own cup and walking over to the worn leather chair by the fire. Before making tea, he had started the fire as the weather outside was getting colder as the fall months ended.

"I wouldn't have guessed you to be such a speedy reader," she said, walking over to the adjacent chair to his. She stepped up on the chair, curling her legs beneath her and adjusting the skirt of her dress to cover her legs, allowing only her toes to peek out.

He smiled to himself as he watched the way she got comfortable, pleased to see that she was beginning to dismiss the protocol to be polite and just relax enough to be with him.

"I'm an avid collector," he expressed, gesturing to the boxes behind the door that she may have missed when she walked into the room that late morning. He already had freshly filled boxes that he'd acquired, waiting for her to sift through them. A somewhat devious plan as he seemed to be purchasing books by the cart loads whenever they would become available either online, or at a local shop. He favored the used ones; newer books felt like they hadn't lived enough yet, to be considered for his collector's library. Regardless, he was set on almost tiring her out when it came to the amount of books he was bringing into his home.

Anna, Belle, glanced towards the new boxes of books and raised an eyebrow, offering a half grin from the side of her mouth, somewhat mischievously, "I'm starting to think that there is never going to be an end of the books for your library." She played coy.

Mr. Gold hesitated for a moment only, before he deduced that she had indeed figured him out, but offered a witty retort, "Or perhaps, you're just taking your time and reshelving the same books, so it looks like you're making less progress in this project."

Ah, well played.

She pursed her lips in thought, smiling fully and glancing over to the fire as she turned her tea cup in her hands, "Ah, you figured me out."

Her voice was sincere and sweet, but not flirtatious. Mr. Gold was reading far more into it, than what was platonically intended. That was just the mind and heart of a hopeless man and for the time being, at least he had these moments to cherish.

"I think at the rate that you keep surprising me with books, you're giving me no choice," she started to say, a tinge of solemnness in her voice. Mr. Gold was apprehensive about raising his eyes to hers, but managed to summon the strength to meet her heavenly blue ones. "It means that I will need to come over on Saturdays, as well."

The silent exchange between them was peaceful and thoughtful. Neither one chiming in, interjecting or having to explain further...it all was just very content and comfortable. Nothing more needed to be said, but the two managed a slight half grin as they quietly sipped their tea.

Near the end of the week, Mr. Gold was just entertaining a pair of tourists that were just passing through Storybrooke and had come across his pawn shop, intrigued by the interesting artifacts he had on display. The young couple had meandered in, attracted to the crystal baby mobile that caught the light as it shone in the shop windows. A special piece that was once held over the baby crib of one, Emma Swan. The couple ogled the mobile, moving on to the collection of mirrors on the wall.

They were about ready to buy, taking the few extra moments to make their final decision, and Mr. Gold stood by as their financial mediator. The little bell rang over the front door, declaring the presence of a new customer or visitor. The latter won out, for as Mr. Gold looked beyond the cuddling couple, he saw his pretty brunette friend slip inside and move over to the side counter where his old flower was wilting from its vase. The customers with him pressed on, asking questions about the set of mirrors, asking their age, make, lineage if known...otherwise preoccupying him from glancing over and watching his Belle. He was polite to his customers, happy to be making a sale that would grant him a good chunk of profit once it was finalized, but it was also at a cost of not being able to greet the woman that swept in, pruned a new blooming rose and snuck out without even a proper hello. He heard the jingle of his little bell again, and she was gone, leaving behind a fresh red rose in a gently polished vase.

For the rest of the late afternoon, Mr. Gold's day felt incomplete. Granted, he did make his final sale, along with throwing in an extra piece that was equally as profitable, he still walked away feeling cheated. He felt swindled out of what was most important to him for that day, his brief encounter with Belle.

It took him many years and many stupid lessons to learn that if he could turn back the clock to the day she walked out of his life, the day she left that castle, then he would gladly have traded in what he had that day. He was a fool and she was right to say that he was freeing himself, for as he closed up his shop, got into his car and drove home to a big empty house of other peoples' memories he realized how very lonely he was.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

The beginning of the winter season was beginning to roll in through Storybrooke. The days seemed shorter, the tourists were stopping for a quick bite as they passed through to their expensive winter homes and firewood was being sold outside the hardware shop. The air was crisp and clean and the docks were seeing more activity for the fresh seafood season.

Mr. Gold had taken to closing early on Saturdays, seeing as Anna, Belle, was now joining him practically the minute he arrived home. It wasn't long after he walked in his front door, removed his jacket and started the kettle that she wasn't already knocking on his door. He'd told her to just let herself in, seeing as he knew it was going to be her, but she said she didn't feel right doing that, especially when he'd just arrived home. She had made some quick little quip about finding him entertaining and didn't want to interrupt. That, of course, made him smirk, knowing full well that was never going to be the case, as long as she was around.

"You're playing music?" she asked, as she led the way towards her own personal literary workshop.

The gentle crooning voice of Billie Holiday could be heard down the hall, where Mr. Gold had set up an old record player complete with megaphone. The music was charming as you heard the scratching sounds of the record playing, allowing the smooth intimate voice to fill all the senses, creating a sort of intimate setting to those that could appreciate it.

"Do you mind? I can turn it off, if it bothers you," he said, walking over to turn down the volume.

"No," she said, unwrapping her scarf and laying it on one of the two worn leather chairs, "I rather like it. It suits you." Anna smiled as she turned to him, pleased with the newest improvement to the library.

With one more look over his shoulder as he left the room through the archway, he watched the woman that left a flutter in his heart begin to busy herself. Smirking to himself, he wondered how long it would take her, before she discovered the new box sitting by the record player. He limped down the hallway towards the kitchen, in the direction of his small workshop where he was to start the tedious job of detailing antique jewelry that he had just acquired, all while the soothing romantic voice of Billie set a relaxed mood through the house.

The determined brunette was climbing high to the eighth step or so, hauling books along with her, with one hand. She had worn pants that day, so she wasn't so modest with her balancing in order to keep her skirt down. She had one foot on a shelf, while the other remained on the ladder, and she reached as far as she could to the farthest space between two tall books so that she wouldn't have to climb down and inch the ladder over any further. She didn't want to waste a trip climbing and she was getting better at balancing. That is, until Mr. Gold walked in on her.

"Please, be careful!" he said with urgency as he walked into the library, carrying a tray of tea.

She quickly grabbed the ladder, startled by the sound of his voice, but managed to slide the book just in time. She shook her head, panting a couple of times and then offering up a smile to her company, several feet below her.

"I'm fine!" she said, starting her descent. "Really, maybe it's a good thing you didn't see me before."

"Maybe," he said, shaking his head. Pouring the steaming tea into a cup, not chipped, he glanced over to the record player. "Is that still playing?"

"I hope you don't mind, but I started it over," she said, taking the cup from his hands and offering him a gentle smile.

As he passed her the tea cup, their fingers touched for only a second and it was just enough for Mr. Gold to lose his train of thought for a moment, but then quickly gave himself a mental shake. It sent such a brief rush through him, that he almost let her question linger too long, she might think him angry. Instead, it was the opposite.

"Of course, not. I'm pleased that you enjoy it. I might have thought it was a little too old fashioned for you, dearie," he tested, walking over to one of the two leather chairs that sat facing the fire.

"Not at all, I actually prefer it," she said, following suit and taking residence up in the chair just across from him. "This music is perfect for dancing."

Before taking his seat, Mr. Gold went over to the little player and turned the music down a notch. Turning the knob to the right still allowed the tranquil voice of the singer fill the room, the saxophone just coming in during her musical break. He returned to the chair across from her, crossed his legs and leaned back to listen to the music and talk with Anna, Belle.

"So, I've got a question for you," she asked, licking her lips after she took a sip. Mr. Gold looked up to her, offering her all his attention as he watched the light from the fire shadow her face romantically. He nodded for her to continue. "What inspired you to do this?"

Mr. Gold was a very good actor, normally, when it came to hidden feelings he stowed away deep down. But, as the music sunk into the later part of the day and the sun was getting ready to set into the early evening, the energy from the fire threw him a little off. For he was sitting directly across from his inspiration to do this. His inspiration was sitting, with him, alive and well, but with no knowledge of their past together. His inspiration was not familiar with his dark ways, or his talent to spin gold, the deals he made, the fact that she was a princess or that he had asked her to leave his castle, once they both proved to each other they were in love with the power of a single solitary kiss.

"Mr. Gold?" she asked, her voice now getting through to him.

With another mental shake, he refocused on her and pretended not to hear her, "I'm sorry?"

Her lips curved upward into a sweet slight smile, like she had discovered something secret about him, "I asked what was your inspiration for building such a lavish room."

With a tilt of the head, he feigned casual, "Well, you know, I just happened to have so many books it was about time to do something with a couple of forgotten rooms in the house. The place did need some updating."

She sensed that he wasn't being completely honest with her, so much so that she was beginning to see through his quip and pressed on. She was about to take another sip, but tilted her head to the side and retreated her cup, going out on a limb, "Was it for a woman?"

Mr. Gold stilled, his eyes dropping down to his hands. Immediately, his throat felt dry, his eyes burned and he hadn't realized he was turning his cup on the saucer nervously.

"It was, wasn't it?" she asked quietly with sincerity. "It was for a woman. What happened to her?"

Mr. Gold started to feel a slight tension headache beginning. He hadn't expected to enter a conversation of this nature with her on one of their peaceful afternoons. It had come out of nowhere, but there was a hint of slight relief for him, as he willed himself to think on it. Though his muscles felt tense all of a sudden and he felt as wound up as metal coil, the sweet sound of her voice encouraged him to answer.

"She died," he lied, his eyes still focusing on the cup and the intricate detail of the handle of his Royal Doulton collection.

The silence was deafening, but she still whispered, "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago," Mr. Gold started, careful about his choice of words. "I sent her away and never got the opportunity to say I was sorry. She was a great lover of books and stories and because of that, I wanted to have a reminder of what she would have loved."

"Well, she's a very lucky woman to have had someone like you care about her, so much," she said quietly, her voice almost hypnotic.

Mr. Gold shook his head, still keeping his eyes low as he reminisced his days with her in the Dark Castle and all the many lonely years after that and the hurtful truth that came from his former wife, Mila. "Honestly, I was the lucky one and never appreciated what was there."

It was evident that Anna had possibly overstepped her bounds and leaned over to rest a hand over his wrist. The touch woke him up and he glanced down at her hand and then up into her beautiful eyes, waiting for her to say something. He wasn't disappointed, for he saw sincerity and compassion in her face and her lips pursed to speak.

"They say we should learn to let go, but if we let go too much, we might not ever find our way back."

Her words did not fall on deaf ears, but he remained silent. Her voice was hopeful, gentle and friendly. It reminded him of their conversations together in the castle, which is why, now, he needed to change the direction of their private exchange. Mr. Gold turned his head to focus on the ashes in the burnt fire in the hearth as he let his mind collect itself.

As the music played on around them, evoking a calming energy in the room, Mr. Gold set down his tea cup on the small table to his side. Anna took her hand away as he stood up and walked over to the record player, returning the volume to its former decibel.

Anna watched him carefully, admiring the way he stood straight, even after a sorrowful conversation. It was apparent that she had upset him and the guilt was settling in deep within her. However, he still managed to offer her a friendly smile as he turned to return to his chair, after turning the music up. Her eyes followed him as he set down his can on the arm of the chair and instead of taking his seat, he turned to her and gestured a half bow, offering his hand.

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a flick of his wrist and eyes intently on hers.

Anna watched him carefully, pursing her lips in a nervous smile. She glanced to his hand, then to his face, then back to his hand again. Unfolding her legs and setting down her own cup, she looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow, "But, what about your cane?"

"For this," he began, his voice dropping an octave, "I'll manage." He flicked his wrist again, straightening up and offering a boyish tilt of his head.

Mr. Gold could barely contain his enthusiasm when she was quick to stand for him, sliding her hand into his fearlessly. Without a second longer, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do and led her away from the two chairs to a space that wasn't decorated with piles of books on the floor. He faced her properly, chin up and smiled as she fumbled nervously on where to put her own hands with him. Mr. Gold chuckled lightly and gently guided her hands where they were to be positioned. Then, as Billie started a new song, he placed his hand on her waist, raised her other hand high and started a count to lead her into the beginnings of a waltz.

As they started their rhythm, Mr. Gold forgot all about his weak leg and led her around his library as if they were dancing on air and were meant to do this all along. Anna, Belle, smiled nervously, averting her eyes to other places in the room and occasionally glancing down at her own feet, where Mr. Gold would "tut" his tongue to get her attention.

She giggled sweetly as he playfully scolded her, making her feel more and more comfortable with him. He was a gentleman with her, keeping their space separate, but not without wanting to interlace their fingers, which he promptly refrained from doing. His heart beat furiously in his chest like a caged bird, allowing the music, her perfume, her body heat and her smile overtake him, filling his senses to a new euphoria. For these brief minutes, he allowed himself to forget about the reality of their situation and how he was just Mr. Gold and she Anna, the daughter of a florist.

As his hand held hers gently, he imagined her in that pretty blue and white dress she would wear when working around the castle and how her lips always looked so deliciously enticing whenever she'd speak to him. Now, he was faced with the cruel price of the curse that prevented her from knowing that she once had feelings for him. Not even when she stepped on his foot, erupting in nervous giggles, did he ever not want her this close to him.

"You are a snappy dancer, Mr. Gold," she said, giggling as she stepped on his foot for the second time. "I'm sorry I can't say the same for myself."

"You're lovely," he charmed, pushing her out for a slow twirl, only for him to bring her back into his arms, pressing her closer than before. She laughed as she twirled; allowing him the freedom to continue on with leading their dance, not even minding that she was much, much closer than when they started.

On her second twirl, she let go of his hand and when she spun back in, caught him with her hands around his neck, offering a hug to show her gratitude. He continued to sway with her, even when her soft hair brushed up against his cheek and her bosom was pressed up tightly against his chest, causing him an extra exhilarating breath. He closed his eyes as he held her close, allowing the dancing and the music to infiltrate their senses and he could tell, by the way she clutched on to him, that it wasn't completely one sided.

The energy in the room was electric and without realizing it, they created a comforting warmth between them that neither wished to retreat from. Her chin rested on his shoulder as they swayed and Mr. Gold brought one hand down from around his neck, so he could cradle it close to his chest, his head bent down looking at her soft skin.

Anna kept herself close, resting her head against him and taking in the pleasant scent of his cologne. His hand holding hers was gentle, caring and she rather liked the peaceful dance they were sharing. She felt comfortable, warm and safe and even though this was just a simple little gesture of kindness, she couldn't help but imagine that he was like this with the woman he lost.

Mr. Gold closed his eyes, listening to the music and cherishing the feeling of having her close to him, in an old house, surrounded by stories of their land and the one they lived in. Everything felt natural, content and though he still managed to forget about the dull pain probably coursing up leg, he never wanted to move. He was perfectly fine to keep her there with him forever, that close, dancing for the rest of his life...

...until there was a knock on the door.

The sound of the heavy knock on the wood made her jump in his arms and both of them turned their heads towards the archway, withdrawing them from their quiet moment. Not that where they were they could see the front door, but it was just instinctual.

Upon lifting her head, Anna looked up at Mr. Gold and slowly distanced herself from him, taking her hands away, as if just realizing what she was doing was incredibly inappropriate. But it wasn't without one last gesture of a hand sliding down his tie.

As if someone had struck a pin in his balloon, the air and radiant energy was escaping as quickly as one could breathe. Mr. Gold looked up towards the front door and then felt Anna's hold on him release, ending their short little interlude that was just a brief flirtation of heaven for him. As the front door was knocked upon again, he had to quiet down the inner voice in his head to not turn whoever was on his doorstep interrupting him into a snail...that he would quickly crush.

"Excuse me, Anna," he said politely, "I'll just go and check who that is."

She nodded bashfully and folded her arms around her nervously, glancing about the room for lack of something to focus on.

Mr. Gold reached back for his cane, not wanting to take that long walk without it. Dancing with her had been different, but if anything he would have wanted the person at his door to wait. He could see the darkened silhouette of the offender and with every muscle he had, he had to refrain from silencing the person that had interrupted them forever.

He opened the door and was met with a young man with dark messy hair, that looked as if he had just woken up and tumbled out of bed. His jeans were holey, his sweater crumpled and he chomped on his gum as if he had absolutely nothing to do. Not appearing too interested in much, the young man looked over Mr. Gold and gave a half smirk, looking bored.

"Hi, yeah, Anna here?" the man said, trying to crane his neck to see past Mr. Gold into his house.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Gold said, shaking his head, as if a fly had just buzzed around his head, "Who are you?" He was appalled by the man's manners.

"I'm her fiancé," the man said non-chalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he slid his hands into his pockets, obviously cold from the outdoors.

Mr. Gold froze, staring at the forgettable young man with anger and envy all at the same time. Like someone had just punched him in the stomach and removed his heart, he found it almost difficult to breathe at that very moment. The air through his lungs was not functioning and he reached for the wall next to him to steady himself as he glanced back when he hard the tapping of Anna's shoes down the hallway.

She didn't meet Mr. Gold's eyes, but her face told another story, a rather annoyed one as she stopped next to Mr. Gold, "Leo, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, babe, I've come to pick you up. I didn't want you walking home, tonight," the man said with an air of arrogance. Still, Mr. Gold wanted to rip that piece of gum out of his mouth, along with his tongue, to show proper manners when presented to a lady.

"I would have driven, Miss French, home. I would never have let her walk," Mr. Gold assured, now able to take in air. The shock was nearly debilitating, but this was reality he was dealing with.

Still not seeing why he needed to come, Anna shook her head, "I was fine, Leo, really."

"That's cool, babe. But, come on, let's go," he said again, already turning to return to his car, assuming she would follow.

Anna closed her eyes, perturbed that Leo was even there, but more upset with him just dropping by. As she opened her eyes, she looked up at Mr. Gold, "I guess I must be going."

Mr. Gold was quiet, nodding and offering a slight smile to the pretty woman that was obviously not ready to leave, but knew that she didn't want to overstay her visit. He watched the way she dropped her eyes nervously to the floor, passing by him over the threshold.

As she took the first step down, she stopped and turned to face him, her eyes honest and her brow furrowed, "Thank you."

"Thank you," he replied.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Mr. Gold just nodded watching her turn away and walk out to Leo's car, already thinking about what he could do to sabotage the breaks on the vehicle, when Anna, Belle, wasn't in it, of course. Instead of giving in further to his hate, he closed the door behind them as their car started and he turned to collect the tea cups and kettle from the library, still smelling her perfume on the collar of his shirt.


	5. 5

Her fiance'. Belle has a fiancé. No, Belle doesn't have a fiancé, Anna has a fiancé.

Glancing over at the clock that sat on his bedside table, Mr. Gold laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling, allowing fierce, disturbing images dance through his mind. It was enough to nearly make him ill, with the way flashing pictures of his Belle, Anna, had been wrapped up in the arms of that other man...the young man. After thorough thought, the man's face materialized in his memory back and he was quickly recognized as the man called "Gaston" in their old land. The man, if he recalled, was too superficial per Belle's standards and she otherwise didn't care for him.

With that in mind, what had changed her mind in this world?

With a heavy sigh and a rub to his brow, Mr. Gold glanced over at the clock again, wishing it was hours later, but only another two minutes had passed. It was then that he decided sleep was not to be his mistress that night and threw his covers off to vacate his bed in search of a hot cup of tea...from his favorite cup.

Sunday morning rose just as overcast and chilly as the day before. By brunch time, a nice fire was already made and was beginning to release the chill from the house, as well as adding a calming energy throughout the rooms. Mr. Gold limped to the door to answer the familiar knock, his cane clunking next to him against the wooden floor, to welcome in his breath of fresh air.

He was met with a vision that made his heart skip every third beat, whether he tried to suppress it or not. She lightly bounced on the balls of her feet as her shoulders shrugged off the cold, glancing up to meet his smile. As he ushered her in, she took her hands out of the pockets of her red pea coat and removed her grey scarf, letting her brown curls fall around her shoulders.

"Bit colder today, than yesterday?" Mr. Gold asked, offering to remove her coat from her shoulders, as if he would a traveling cloak and hung it on a nearby hook.

As she removed her scarf and hat, hanging it on the hook with her coat he had just hung, she smiled as she passed him, "Yes, very. Sure hope you have that fire started."

He nodded his assurance to her and watched as she twirled on her booted heel and walked the path down the hallway towards the library. His eyes couldn't help but stray down her form, quietly admiring the way her denim jeans hugged her every curve, committing it to memory. When he heard her voice from the other room, he mentally shook himself from his indecent trance and pushed on to follow the voice, chastising himself for the indiscretion.

Meeting her eyes at least three times a week was more than he'd ever imagined, but the way he felt every nerve in his system chill when she met him with a smile, was enough to carry him through the other four days of the week. But, to see her standing in the middle of his favored room of the moment, with her hands on her hips, and pretending to be angry was more than his old heart could handle.

"Why does it look like there are more books in here? I thought I told you to not bring anything in, until I was finished sorting through most of the boxes in here?" her brown hair fell in front of her shoulders, creating a romantic picture Mr. Gold wished he could savor on paper, but he had no time. Though she feigned angry, he knew by the hint of a smirk from the corner of her lips, she was only teasing.

"You were looking bored yesterday, so I couldn't help myself," he quickly replied, tossing back his bangs in a very boyish manner and spinning around on his cane to exit to the kitchen.

He returned ten minutes later, carrying the normal tray of kettle and cups with sugar and cream on the side, as he was reminded again of how undeserving of her presence he was. Anna was surrounded by her latest stack of books that she didn't get a chance to go through the day before. They were arranged by size and subject, ready to be carried to the near top of the room in a little basket she brought with her.

"What, no music today?" she asked from the Indian style position she sat in. The books around her created a mini fortress.

Glancing her way, Mr. Gold offered her a slight smile as it warmed his heart to see her busy herself in his library; in his home. It was heaven to see her comfortable in her world, on his territory, reminding him of their time in the Dark Castle.

"I can put it back on, if you'd like," he offered.

As he set down the tea set and started to prepare the tea, she stood up and stretched herself out. "Just keep it low, if that's alright."

"I've turned you off of it, since yesterday," he said, handing her a steaming cup once she was closer.

She shook her head and romantic wisps of hair framed her face elegantly, "No, I want it low, so I can talk to you. I can't very well yell at you over the music, every time I need you." She turned and went back to the many stacks that created her fortress and he turned to leave her in peace, allowing her to get back to her business of shelving.

Every time she needed him. A hopeful dream. He sipped his tea quietly, slowly walking towards the archway leading out of the room.

"I never thanked you," she called down to him, glancing over her shoulder from the ladder she was beginning to climb.

Hearing the sincere rhythm of her voice to him made him turn in mid step, holding tightly to the gold handle on his cane as he looked up, "What ever for?"

Sensing an odd feeling of awkwardness, Anna looked around the room nervously, trying to focus her eyes on anything, but him, "For the dance," she said simply. "I'm sure you'll never want to dance with me, again, after how many times I stepped on your foot."

The mere tease of her using the term again made his heart leap. The beautiful imagery that she was setting within him of the two of them close, entwined, sharing a moment again, and within this century, made him mentally soar to a new level of admiration for this woman. Taking a deep breath and shaking his head lightly, he dared an honest response, "I would dance with you, anytime...Anna."

With a quick nod, the young woman's face was hidden by her hair, so it wasn't clear whether she was blushing or not. In Mr. Gold's hopeful imagination, she was. With an uplifted heart, Mr. Gold turned and retreated down the hallway to let her work in peace.

The late afternoon chill increased and Mr. Gold returned to the library to stoke up the fire again, as well as sit with Anna as she finished up. It was the normal hour in which she usually left or sometimes just sat down with him to make small conversation. He came in offering chocolate and Anna was quick to accept the offer, along with showing him how she'd arranged the countless books on antiques. She also threatened him, finger pointed at him sternly, that if he were to acquire any more books on the subject before next week, she wouldn't bring him a flower for at least two weeks.

He took his seat in the big leather chair, staying out of her way as she continued to work, stopping now and then to rethink where a stack might be going up on a shelf shortly. She didn't seem to be losing very much steam, which made Mr. Gold to believe that she wasn't in such a hurry to leave that evening. This pleased him greatly.

"So, your fiancé'..." he started, chipping away at the subject matter like a firm piece of ice. He steeple his fingers together in thought, curious about her courtship with the man he would otherwise like to hit with his Cadillac.

His query slowed her movements; her reading of the cover of the book she held lingered longer than necessary. It was evident that her fiancé' was not a favored topic at a time when she was in her own little literary euphoria. "Yes, Leo. I'm sorry I didn't introduce you, but I was just so upset with him just showing up like that."

"How do you two know each other?" Mr. Gold asked inquisitively. He couldn't determine when the two had a chance to meet, let alone romance. He leaned his head back against his chair, setting his eyes on her, watching the way she nibbled her lower pink lip.

Anna, Belle, leaned over and picked up a couple of books to place into the basket she had nearby. After it was about four books deep, she looped the handle over her elbow and started to climb the ladder attached to the wall. Mr. Gold's eyes watched her carefully, selfishly trailing his eyes over her slender legs and rear as she ascended.

She sighed, her voice already telling the story, "His parents are friends of the family. I've known him for as long as I can remember and when I got home, thanks to you, Leo was there to help me put back the pieces." The bored lull of her voice lacked passion, as if she was commenting on the weather rather than her betrothed. Lacking feeling or emotion, she continued, "His father is a potential partner for my father's business and I know papa would like to expand, eventually."

"And so he proposed, so quickly?"

"It's more like we only discussed it and then one day just changed our status. It's not the way how I would have predicted things to come together, but it's something our parents would expect." She was quiet as she stood on the ladder, pulling books out of her basket and shelving them at her current level.

"So, was this something you truly wanted?" Mr. Gold asked, listening carefully to every word of her tale. It all felt very familiar.

"Yes," she sighed passively. "And no. Being with Leo is an eye opener, that's for sure. But, he's got a good job and eventually, he'd like to transfer to Boston. I, for one, would love to get out of this town and if I married him, it would be a sure ticket." Her voice was lackluster, dull, bored. There was no feeling or heart behind her words, more like she was just discussing the different flavors of cheesecake at Granny's. It was then that Mr. Gold wasn't sure if she comprehended the magnitude of her situation.

"Perhaps, it's not the town you are unhappy with," Mr. Gold suggested, pained to see the way she was quietly dying inside.

Gone was the brave woman he had fallen in love with that saved her village. Gone was the adventure seeker who wanted to travel to distant lands, experiencing life. Gone was the passionate creature that saw love as layered, enough so that she was willing to pledge her heart to an undeserving beast that was afraid of the unknown. Rumpelstiltskin was a stupid man.

As he watched her descend back down the ladder in order to refill her basket, his mind went whirling. Was his Belle gone? Was the beautiful princess that sought adventure and travels truly gone? Had she no love for life?

"Do you love him?"

Like an animal studying his prey, he watched the way she had to stop and think about the right answer. Like she were truly soul searching, she stared longer at the stack of books that stood before her, wagering an answer that was appropriate.

"I do," she replied, using that same bored, lifeless voice. However, a few seconds later, she quietly whispered to herself, "I guess."

Now, the Dark One can see some of the future, the Dark One can manipulate people to get what he wants, the Dark One never wanted for anything, the Dark One made others fear him, but most importantly at that moment, the Dark One had excellent hearing and her last silent whisper aloud did not go unheard.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The following week was a slow one for the pawn shop; not too many customers coming in that week. The lack of business was not entirely unwelcomed, for Mr. Gold had inventory to update as well as making some slight repairs on a few items that had gone neglected for some time. It was Thursday afternoon and a quick glance to the front counter with the flower in the slender vase was an indication that he was, hopefully, going to have company.

The pawnbroker was using the apron that hung around his neck to protect his clothes as a rag. He wiped his hands carelessly over the material, cleaning himself briefly from the oil he was using to loosen a screw. Just as predicted from the looks of the wilting flower displayed on the front counter, the little bell over his door jingled pleasantly and his heart skipped ever so slightly at the sound. He sensed his beauty's presence and glanced up to meet her warm blue eyes.

"Hi," she greeted as she set her bag on the floor by the front door, while going over to the front counter.

"Hey," he replied with a cool and casual tone. Trying to not look too anxious, he continued with his activity, glancing in the small toolbox next to him and fetching a small screw driver to assist him with certain parts.

"Today, it's an Asiatic Lily," she hummed in a sing-song voice, busying herself as usual with her normal routine, cutting and pruning the flower to look its best. She didn't need to glance back at him; she knew he was paying attention. He always was.

"I haven't had a Lily, before," he replied, paying particular detail to the small little screw to the piece he was repairing.

Anna was just finishing up, discarding the cut leaves and disposing of the old flower. Once satisfied with her presentation, she looked over to her friendly pawnbroker and grinned to observe him totally engrossed in an old box with Celtic-looking engraving on it. She watched carefully as his long slender fingers worked its way around the box, offering it gentle care and all his attention for that moment. She admired his knack for detail as well as his devotion to such artifacts that were most likely someone's treasure at some point. He sensed her eyes on him and glanced up briefly to see her, eliciting a half smirk to cross over his lips.

"What are you doing?" she asked, walking over and loosening her scarf that was wrapped around her neck, keeping her warm from the outside cold.

"This is a very old piece that seems to have lost the ability to open easily, so I'm just replacing the hinges on it," he answered as if he were teaching a lesson. He flicked his hair out of eyes to glance up at her from time to time, never wanting to miss a moment with her close, loving how carefully she was watching him work.

"Tell me about it," she requested, leaning over and resting her elbows on the glass counter top, as if awaiting a good story. Her braided hair fell forward over her shoulders and she tilted her head in query, waiting for him to tell her about the piece.

Mr. Gold's insides began to warm in a most delightful sensation that she was interested in what he was doing, for a change. She was visiting him in his shop, she was leaning over his counter and she was looking up at him like a curious little kitten. She was a captivated audience of one and he wanted nothing more than for that moment to last as long as it could.

Licking his lips that all of a sudden felt very dry, he replied, "There's not a lot known about it, right now." He played it cool, calm and casual, elated that she had leaned in further to watch him work. A brief glance and he saw that as she rested her chin on her wrist, curious to what he was doing, positioned her mere inches away from his face. When he paused, their eyes met and he finished, "But, when I learn, I will be sure to tell you."

The sound of his accented voice elicited a definite eye flutter on her part. Whether he was trying or not, whether he sensed the mutual unspoken attraction that was slowly growing between them, or whether it was just because their faces were so close, it made her lips part ever so slightly in mid awe.

The heated uneasiness caused Anna to look away, almost bashful, and lick her lips nervously. She feigned interest in the items displayed under the glass case she leaned on, hoping to pull attention off of her for just a moment in order to regain her thoughts. However, something shiny caught her eye when she looked down and with a curious tilt of her head, she pointed to it.

"What about that one? What would that hook be from?" she asked, bringing a lighter sound to her voice to try and break up the tension.

He smirked to himself, not missing the subtleness of her distraction and glanced down at the object in question. The hook was a memory of a terrible day that ended up with no results, other than a hurtful confession from his son's mother and an empty hand. As he glanced up to the beauty before him, he could see that he was pleased with the way the events of that day played out, since he technically was no longer a married man.

Moving on, "That, well, I don't think you'd believe me." His voice took on that of a teasing storyteller, a wise, all-knowing teller that was obviously aware of the intrigue the listener had.

She flicked her eyes up to meet his, charmed by his playfulness, "Come on, try me."

"I could tell you," he started, wiping his hands on his apron and then removing it to hang on a door hook just behind him, "that I stole it from a pirate."

Immediately, her eyes twinkled again and her smile brightened, elated with his knack for baiting her. As a lover of stories, legends and anything else that preoccupied her mind in this mundane world, she nodded to him, "Go on."

She took the bait. He was in.

He gave her a half smirk, emphasizing the slight lines around his mouth and eyes, as he leaned over the counter like she was. He rested on his elbows, keeping his face a few inches from hers, keeping his head low as if they were scheming someone's great demise.

"That hook, right there, once belonged to the notorious Captain Hook. A complete prat, if you asked me," he said casually, as if it was completely normal to talk about pirates to her. She offered him a smile, elated by his imagination, captivated by his tale, but enamored by his presence. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of arrogance to know that she probably never looked at Gaston, the way she was looking at him right at that moment and with that in mind, he continued. "He called me out for a duel, which I just couldn't deny. I picked up the sword, having the advantage of being a very skilled swordsman and defeated him with a final blow, cutting off his hand and forcing him to use a hook."

Her eyes never left his, not wanting to miss a thing and nestling her chin further into her palm. His voice was beautiful to her ears and though she'd believed him a handsome man before, something about him stood out even further to her. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or perhaps it was that he was older than she was, but whatever it was, she had to admit that she couldn't resist a man who knew how to tell stories.

"And, how did you acquire the hook?" she asked sweetly, her voice almost in a whisper, as if it were a secret that only they were to share. She couldn't resist pushing him further, hoping to hear a really creative answer.

Mr. Gold leaned in closer, practically feeling her breath against his lips and enticing the woman even further into his story, "I stole it from him, when he was sleeping." The beautiful woman giggled sweetly for him, sighing heavily and shaking her head in jest.

The two had lured the other in, he with his tale and she with her innocence, that it was the forbidden feeling that couldn't be explained, just like they had with the dance the other afternoon. Something between them was awakening, and it was no longer just one sided, for Mr. Gold couldn't help but notice the way Anna, Belle, nibbled her lower lip nervously at him. They were positioned inappropriately, but he would never cross that line with her, unless she was the one that initiated it. Still, their faces were close, their smiles were friendly and their eyes...their eyes were more flirtatious that even a blind man could have sensed it. They had enticed the other so deeply, that neither of them heard the small little bell jingle over the pawn shop's front door.

Glancing up, Mr. Gold saw that his visitor was Emma Swan and she stopped near the front door, just as she made out what was transpiring just in front of her over the counter.

"Miss Swan," Mr. Gold greeted as he leaned up off his counter, quietly seething from within. He offered a fake, firm smile, irritated that he was losing his moment.

Emma stood there stunned, like a deer in the headlights, as she walked in on what she thought she had walked in on. It was something that she never associated Mr. Gold with, attraction of the opposite sex that it was almost hard for her to remember why she had walked into the shop in the first place.

"Ah, yeah, I've got a dilemma, Mr. Gold and I needed to talk to you," Emma said, still and hesitant to move from where she stood. "Do you have a moment?"

"Actually, I'm a bit-" Mr. Gold started, but was cut short by Anna.

"Yes, sorry. I was just leaving," Anna said, quickly pushing herself off the counter and spinning around to pick up her bag off the floor. Mr. Gold just watched as his flickering flame was extinguishing.

"Are you sure? Because, I can come back," Emma said, watching as the young woman carried on rewrapping her scarf and otherwise busying herself to allow business to resume as usual.

"No, really, I've got a dinner date, soon," Anna replied, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She gave a quick glance to the shop owner who stood straight-backed and a little bit angered, "I'll see you, Saturday?"

Annoyed and quiet, Mr. Gold just nodded as she reached for the door handle of the door. In a small flurry, the brunette woman was bundled and bound for the outdoors. She gave a little wave to both of them and let the little bell chime as she exited the shop, passing by the front window and disappearing.

"What was that all about?" Emma asked, turning around to Mr. Gold, who still stood behind the counter, offering him a curious unsettling look.

"What are you talking about?" he said calmly, pretending that nothing was seen. It was obvious that he was not keen on their interruption.

"That girl was flirting with you," Emma said, almost teasing Mr. Gold, for the idea of him with anyone of that nature was almost too foreign for her to fathom.

"Miss Swan, I hardly doubt that and she's a woman, not a girl. Now, what was it that you came here for?"

"Who was that?" Emma asked, smirking at Mr. Gold as she approached the counter. Something from within her warmed to witness such a human encounter from the most feared man in town.

Looking otherwise put out and bored, he sighed, "Her name is Anna French, if you must know. Her father owns the floral shop, if you remember."

Emma's eyebrows rose, "Her father is the man you-"

"Yes."

Shaking her head very surprised, but not wanting to press on any further, she replied, "Well, that's another story to be told."

"Yes, it is. Now, again, what was it that you needed, Miss Swan?"


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

The weather outside was frightful.

The leaves on trees of front yards had nearly all fallen, except for a few strands of stubborn greenery that refused to let go of their fall months. Snow hadn't fallen, but sales of snow boards and were beginning to increase, due to the impending weather ahead. The fresh crisp air inhaled in the lungs gave you a sense of cleansing and at a time where the holidays were upon us, it was definitely needed.

The energy in the air was electrifying, forcing folks all around town to display at least a smirk as they passed you by. Couples walked closely together, holding hands and chuckling into the evenings as they finished a drink at Granny's and windows were adorned with holiday cheer, complete with mobile reindeer.

Mr. Gold limped along the sidewalk with his gold handled cane clunking alongside his right leg, wearing a long black wool coat, tightly wrapped scarf and fine leather gloves accenting his slender fingers. He could see his breath in front of him with every exhale and concentrated on the placement of his cane, cautious of any slippery areas on the sidewalk that may have already frozen over in the chill. As people passed him, they nodded their heads politely, not engaging in conversation and avoiding any moments further in an encounter, should they owe him anything.

The distance from his shop to the local convenience store wasn't worth getting into his car and driving the couple blocks, so instead, he took the short stroll to pick up a bottle of brandy. A late night sitting in his library had rendered him without a night cap and it was soon that he needed to remedy that situation.

As he passed Granny's, something within him drew him to towards the front door were people were just leaving. They were bundled in coats and scarves, slipping on their gloves and daring the cold while standing in front of the threshold. Though he very rarely went into Granny's for anything other than collecting rent from the B&B next door, some small impulse made him follow up the sidewalk, push the door open and step inside.

Feeling somewhat like a cowboy stepping into a bar like in the movies, the few customers that were scattered throughout barely took a glance at him standing there stoic and strong. Granny, however, glanced up at him from behind her bi-focals, making a mental note of the date on the calendar.

The mysterious instinct that led him through the front door and into the diner was not wrong, for seated at the end of the counter was Anna, Belle. Seated next to her, was the pathetic looking fiancé, who at least appeared to have decided upon running a comb through his hair that night. His line of sight was interrupted as Ruby walked in front of him, hugging menus to her chest.

"Mr. Gold?" the pretty waitress with the big red lips asked. Always dressed very provocatively, even in the weather, it was all he could do to not look her over like piece of steak. So many others did, and she knew it, but he had a distinguished reputation to uphold. Giving himself a mental shake, as well as clearing his throat as it suddenly felt dry from the amount of skin she was revealing to him, he nodded and inquired on a table.

Ruby smiled big, she always did and turned to lead him to the farthest booth in the diner, where his back could be against the wall and his eyes toward the front door. Ruby had guessed that since he was not a frequented customer and not well liked in Storybrooke, it was good for him to know where his exits were, should anything go off color.

Once seated, Mr. Gold balanced his cane against his leg and opened the menu in front of him to look over the specials. He gave a subtle glance to the couple on his left seated at the bar. After observing their body language for only a couple of seconds, it was as clear to a blind man that the pair was on a very awkward date. As Anna would take a sip of her drink, Leo found the opportunity to look down towards Ruby, leering at her like a hungry wolf as he did exactly what Mr. Gold had avoided doing.

Feeling the urge to throw something sharp, pointy and painful to the young man, his opportunity passed when two other men walked into the diner, making enough noise to announce their arrival. It took no time for them to spot the bum, otherwise known as Leo, before they went to him with palms high for the normal macho greeting. Barely noticing Anna at his side, the men continued to conduct their business as if they were the only ones in the diner and their volume was not disrupting anyone else having a meal. There was a brief exchange and before Mr. Gold could figure out what was transpiring, Leo was leaning over to Anna, offering a kiss and hopping down off his stool from the counter. He followed the other two men out the front door without a second glance to the pretty brunette left sitting by herself.

As if a short film had just been reenacted in front of him, Mr. Gold was left with his lips parted, his heart beating and his knuckles turning white as he held the menu before him. He hadn't even noticed Ruby returning to his table to check on him.

"Decide what you might like?" Ruby asked; her note pad in her hand and a pen to her lips.

As he looked up to Ruby, giving a nod to clear the brown locks from his face, he narrowed his brow, "Ah, that young woman over there," he started. "I'd like to buy her a drink. What is she having?"

"Who? Anna?" Ruby asked, glancing over to the woman sitting alone. "She's not having anything more than an iced tea."

Mr. Gold frowned when he was unable to send over a real drink, when he thought of something even better, "Can you please send her over a cup of hot tea? On me."

At first Ruby grinned and then she smiled, obviously impressed with his change of stone heart. With a quick glance over to Anna, she nodded her, "Of course."

Lost in her own thoughts, Anna was sipping carefully from the long straw that descended into her iced tea. Not a practical drink for this time of season, it still brought a sense of comfort to her, something childish and something she could enjoy when her mood was low. Ruby presented her with a hot cup of tea, cream and sugar along the side and a bright smile that was enough to convey a sinister plot at hand.

"I'm sorry, Ruby, but I didn't order this," Anna said, releasing the straw from between her lips. It was bent and had teeth marks, obviously caused by subconscious stress she was trying to suppress.

"I know," she smiled with her big red lips, perfect white teeth shining through. She flicked her fingers, her bangle bracelets jingling around her wrist and pointed behind her, "he sent it."

Anna half turned on her stool to glance behind her, preparing herself for the oddest of Storybrooke residents, but was more than pleasantly surprised. Her face lit up like a child on Christmas morning; her smile widening ear to ear. Without another glance back, she picked up her hot tea cup and joined Mr. Gold at his table, sliding into the booth opposite him.

"Hi," she said, her fingers warming themselves around the hot cup. "This," she gestured to her hot tea, "was just what I needed." Her eyes flicked to her tea, then back up at him offering her utmost thanks and gratitude for the gesture.

Mr. Gold met her inviting grin, laying down his menu and offering his complete attention. With a sly glance, he looked towards the door, making sure the twit wasn't dawdling right outside. He peered around the diner, wanting to see if anyone else had taken interest in their joining together, already afraid of anyone learning any of his weaknesses. Other than Ruby who had just dropped her eyes from them after serving Leroy a drink, he was cautious for their conversation.

"Where did your fiancé' go?" he asked quietly and only to her. He wanted to keep their encounter as private as she would allow. Again, it was just he being paranoid. Regardless, he needed to wake himself up for the moment, for he was out and about with Anna, his Belle, in public.

At the mention of someone else, her face fell immediately, as if he'd just told her that her favorite cat had been killed, or worse, her favorite book was no longer in print found anywhere in the world. It secretly elated Mr. Gold to see the disappointment over the suggestion of the buffoon. Still, he had to keep his casual, stoic demeanor.

"You saw him, huh?" she asked as she averted her eyes to the tea and its swirling contents. "He went off with his friends. Too bad, because we were going to have dinner together, but he wanted to go out so badly."

Sensing her true disappointed state, he seized the opportunity and picked up his menu, "Well, as it happens, that's what I'm in here for."

A slow, smooth smile crept back over her lips, but she avoided his eyes when she looked up. However, something deep inside of her fluttered in a way that probably shouldn't, but that didn't deter her from feeling the warmth in her cheeks as she knew she was blushing a reddish hue.

"Care to join me? I mean, I'm no twenty-something sports jock that can bench press-"

"You're wonderful," she interrupted, nibbling at her lower lip and offering a kind genuine smile that nearly made her blue eyes sparkle like the diamonds in the dwarf mines. Their silence was a gift between them and she looked up towards Ruby at the counter, who was pretending not to watch them, "Ruby, can I please have a menu?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Three hours later and dinner was long over. Dessert had come and gone. Now the odd couple sat in mischievous silence after sharing a piece of apple cobbler...with two spoons.

Anna, Belle, had her lips turned in a half smirk, her eyes on him, watching his every move, his every muscle twitch, his every sniff of his nose as he waited her out. She licked her lips nervously, her eyes keen as a hunter's waiting for him to break. He was a statue, a wealth of knowledge and at this time, he was merely sharing some town secrets he had discovered and obviously respected the need for them to remain private.

That or he just knew he would be able to lure her in with some new tidbits of "boring" Storybrooke.

Finally, Anna shrugged, waved her white flag and gave up on catching him in his untruths. He was good. She fell against the back of the booth, her fingers spinning her third cup of tea in front of her, submitting to his accusations.

"You lie," she whispered low, her low lidded eyes looking up at him, in order to bait him.

"I never lie," he replied, keeping his voice low and only to her. He was acutely aware that Ruby had taken to cleaning the tables near them more than what was deemed necessary. Her curiosity getting the best of her over the dining of the town pawnbroker/landlord and the daughter of the man he nearly beat to death with the end of his cane. The same cane that rested against his leg under the table.

"An affair?" she asked quietly, her eyes as big as saucers over the newfound gossip. "Mary Margaret is a school teacher and she would never...it's just not in her composition."

"Believe what you want, dearie. She's not what you think she is. For all you know, she could harbor the strength and ability to kill a man with one shot of her bow and arrow."

Her painted display of disenchantment fell from her face as her lips crept into an unknowing keen smile. She blinked a few times, as if realizing watching the way he spoke to her to be one of the most fascinating things she'd ever seen and didn't wish to be discovered. The genuine fondness she was coming to terms with over spending time with Mr. Gold was as natural as getting up in the morning and saying hello. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, it wasn't any one thing that she liked, it was the mysterious package that he was turning out to be; the fact that no one in Storybrooke seemed to know, nor did they take the time to find out. Anna believed that was reserved for her.

"And there you go again, bringing stories into it. You know that gets me every time," she said, offering a sweet and sincere smile. She loved hearing the sound his small chuckle made as it erupted quietly from his throat.

"Hello Leo," Ruby's voice carried through the diner, as if signaling the two in the last booth against the wall that something was afoot.

When he heard the scuffling breeze in through the door, that was when he heard Ruby's unsettling voice. Mr. Gold's eyes went to the front of the diner where he was met with a poor excuse for a man stumbling into the diner. Leo's, Gaston's, hair was messy, his shirt was untucked his pants had mysterious stains over them and a stagger that was anything but confident. His eyes were half closed, but he tried desperately to widen them in order to focus on where he was walking. It was evident that Anna's betrothed had far too many drinks to even be out in public and yet, he felt like making an entrance that certainly was worthy of an audience.

Anna noticed Mr. Gold preoccupied with something behind her and at the sound of a chair falling over, obviously throwing itself in his path of the drunken destruction, she turned quick enough to realize that the man that could easily be mistaken for a homeless person was her poor excuse for a fiancé'.

"Anna, there you are!" he called and as if he was focusing on a carrot dangling right in front of him, he swayed his body in her direction in order to move forward, aiming for the table she was sitting at. His footing was unstable, his efforts pitiful. He stopped abruptly, holding onto a nearby table to get his balance, once again. "Come on, let's get you home."

"I'm fine, Leo," Anna replied, shaking her head and wishing to just disappear into the bench she sat on. Mr. Gold watched on, quietly repulsed, waiting for the opportunity to throw him out of the diner should he become unruly. "Just go home, Leo. You're far too drunk to drive."

"Why? I got here, didn't I?" Leo said with an arrogant chuckle, proud of his accomplishments and looking about the room boasting his success. He casually slid his hands into the pocket of his jeans, by the third attempt he gave up and just reached for the nearest chair to steady him. Gravity was his nemesis this evening. "Now, come on," he said again, spinning on his heel with limited success, but not without knocking over another nearby chair.

"You're crazy, Leo, "Anna said, as if dealing with a stubborn child. "Let me call you a cab." She stood from her booth, rolling her eyes and walking towards the front register where Ruby was, already reaching for the phonebook to hand to her.

"No, Anna, I'm good," he whined, reaching out for her arm, but missing her by at least five or six inches. She was already way passed him. "Just come home with me," he said, in a pseudo sultry voice that only a drunk could swoon.

Mr. Gold saw the lurching young man as a threat to his Belle and used the hook side of his cane to loop onto his belt, yanking him back from his intended direction. He managed to stand from his booth with a swift grace; it was if the table had removed itself from its placement in front of him, in order to face the intoxicated man.

As they met nearly nose to nose, Mr. Gold refrained from showing teeth as he suggested, "I believe the lady said she was fine. Now, be a gentleman and allow her to call you a cab." He kept himself in check, wary on how much of his inner beast he wished to come out. Should Leo consider laying a single finger on his Belle, then he would have unleashed the animal within.

"Not now, Mr. Gold, I got this," Leo ignored, his eyes barely open due to the fact he could barely focus and brushing off Mr. Gold as if he were nothing but another chair in his way. He turned away from his confrontation and went towards Anna, who was now up by Ruby and dialing a phone number. Unaware of any obstacles, two steps and Leo went down like a sack of potatoes. Mr. Gold was just pulling his cane back in front of him to lean on, surveying any potential damage caused to the inebriated one.

"Leo!" Anna yelled, immediately rushing to his side and assisting him to stand back up on his two wobbling feet. "Are you alright? Here, stand up."

Mr. Gold turned on his heel, overusing the cane to steady himself as he walked back to his booth. He needed to convey innocence and not of a guilty man that had obviously used his own resources to force the man down with minimal effort. He loathed the fact that Anna, Belle, was clinging to his side, her arms draped around him lovingly.

"Like I said, perhaps you should allow the lady to call you a cab," Mr. Gold repeated dryly and without feeling or genuine sympathy, as if a bug just needed to be squashed.

With a little more coaching, Leo was back on his feet, swaying like he were a cornstalk in a field. Ruby and Anna practically dragged him towards the front door of Granny's. Anna proceeded to scold him about the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed to put him in that state.

"Leo, the cab is on its way. I'll see you tomorrow," Anna said while propping him up against the window wall. "You're in a real state; you can barely stand up."

"But, how will you get home?" Leo asked while pushing the door open in front of him as Anna followed close, obviously helping him outside to make sure he didn't wander off.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," she said and within minutes, a yellow taxi cab was pulling up to the front of the restaurant. Anna helped Leo inside the car, after letting him bump his head on the roof as he entered, and finally leaning in through the window of the driver to give directions. After a brief conversation, Anna gave Leo a kiss and encouraged the cab to drive on, making sure the doors were locked. Within seconds, Leo was on his way home and away from her.

As she made the walk back inside the restaurant, she couldn't help that all eyes were on her. Granted, there were only two other people sitting in the diner at the time, but that was enough to make Anna feel self-conscious and humiliated. She offered Ruby a silent 'thank you' and walked back towards the table that her pleasant dinner companion remained seated at. When she stood next to their table, Mr. Gold looked up and offered a pleasant, yet empathetic, half smile as if to mentally assure things could improve if she willed them to. His dark eyes were enough to melt her where she stood, reinforcing the unhealthy fondness she felt for him. His reassurance, his friendship, his unusual kindness to her was enough to make the man that had driven away not exist.

She licked her lips nervously and reaching for her sweater that remained in her side of the booth, "I really should go. It's getting late."

"Then let me drive you home," Mr. Gold insisted, sliding out of the booth and reaching for his cane. As he stood next to Anna, her arm briefly brushed over the fabric of his suit due to their proximity. Being so close, he could see the sadness and disappointment in her face; she looked defeated and otherwise, mentally exhausted. Not to overstep his bounds, he added, "If that's all right with you?"

"You know, after that episode, I'm not even going to argue with you." she sighed, collecting her own thoughts.

Excusing himself, Mr. Gold passed her to meet with Ruby to settle the check. He sensed her presence close behind him, like she was gravitating to his orbit and the overwhelming sense of security and rightness he was creating for her. She almost felt distant, even from herself and she didn't even hear Ruby wish her a good night as Mr. Gold opened the door for her to walk outside.

Their ride together in Mr. Gold's Cadillac was a quiet one, but not uncomfortably quiet. Mr. Gold managed to keep his eyes on the road, rather than draw focus to the fact that he had his Belle as close as he could, within hand holding distance. Something he never did and something he knew that if given the chance, he'd never take it for granted.

Anna, on the other hand was almost a different person from whom she was at the diner. Her charming, jovial self had been replaced with someone who had more on her mind, than when she did earlier in the evening. Things had transpired that were a great eye opener to her. Some of the decisions she was making for herself, with others in mind, were not panning out to be what she had hoped. A battle with her own conscience and neither side was winning. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, her ankles crossed and her eyes staring out the window into the darkness as it passed them by. Lights flickered off her face as they passed under streetlamps; the brightness never wavering her.

"Thank you," Anna, Belle, finally said, "For the ride home."

"It's nothing," he replied, glancing over to her. She remained fixated with staring out the window. "I would never have allowed you to walk home this late, anyhow."

Not looking at him did not mean that she was unaware of him. It was quite the opposite. She didn't want to look over at him, because for the moment, she was very conflicted. What was right and what felt right were two very different emotions she was experiencing, unsure which road to take, and just the slightest hint of what she was deeply considering could easily be misconstrued and taken out of context.

Instead, she fidgeted. She glanced down at her hands, making sure they were politely interlaced, and her back was straight as she sat in her seat. She licked her lips nervously, feeling his eyes on her every so often when she'd make a move or turn away from the window. Knowing that he was looking out for her, not allowing her to walk home, created a warm sensation within that made her believe everything was safe and sound in her world. Feeling complete and at ease when in the presence of Mr. Gold was becoming more and more apparent, even if she sat straight backed with her chin held high like a princess.

He was not favored in Storybrooke, mainly because he owned it. People were not friends with their landlords or debt holders. They went about their lives, knowing that he just existed for two parties that had a common interest or investment. Though Mr. Gold had his dark side at times and stories about his past surfaced now and then about his backdoor dealings, he had treated her like nothing less than a gentleman.

And that, Anna agreed, deserved the same respect in return. By offering him kindness, it was a closely kept secret of her heart that she yearned to be more for him. A friend was only one piece of it. A kinship aged to perfection as the two of them learned about one another: their favorite foods, favorite movies, favorite dreams, late afternoon naps on the weekends, dinners that went on late into the evening with a bottle of wine half emptied, someone she could laugh with, someone she could have an intelligent conversation with...someone she could fall in love with.

Sadly, like a punch to the stomach, like a slap in the face, reality reared its ugly head. For someone like him, someone as refined, sophisticated and worldly would never flirt with the idea of knowing someone like her: a younger woman recently released from an asylum

Suddenly, her throat felt dry.

"I am sorry for Leo's behavior," Anna whispered, finally glancing his way. His hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, running his palms over the circle and putting the vehicle into park. She hadn't even noticed that their short ride had come to an end and he had arrived right outside her home.

"He was just a man that had endured many spirits. I've seen plenty men in that state," he assured. Mr. Gold felt embarrassed for her.

"Perhaps, but he-" Anna lost her train of thought in mid sentence. Where she once believed she needed to defend him, something stopped her, making her realize that she didn't need self-justification of their relationship. It was what it was.

Mr. Gold noticed the slight change and he challenged her thought, "But he, what, Miss French?"

As if tiny gears consisting of intricate oiled parts moved diligently in her mind, Anna's train of thought led her down a dark mental hole, making everything she wanted to say, or think, turn into lack of words. The silence was deafening, she had nearly drifted off and when she came to, she slowly looked back at him with a content smile.

With a surrendering sigh, she shook her head and whispered, "Nothing." When her eyes met his, she found herself getting lost. His dark eyes and boyish wispy long hair gave him character, charm and he puzzled her. Dressed in a dark blue suit, complete with pocket square offering her a heartfelt look of concern, she was nearly unsure how to proceed. The moment was there, they were in it, the moonlight was perfect, but it was nothing but a silly schoolgirl crush and that brought her back.

But, Anna felt bold. Not too bold that she would make a fool of herself, but enough to offer a sincere gesture. Without any other intention, she reached a hand to him and placed it gently against his cheek. For a second, they shared a gaze that was almost from another world, another realm, another life and it was over as quickly as a blink.

"Thank you for dinner and the ride home, Mr. Gold," she said quietly and offering a small genuine smile over her pink lips.

"My pleasure," he managed to say with a low whisper; his eyes on her like a hawk to its prey. When she first started to reach for him, he went stiff, rigid and immediately was as nervous as a fourteen year old boy on his first so-called date. Her actions had thrown him, but her gesture had charmed him. Feeling her soft hand against his cheek was a temptation he'd rather have not been tested with, for the inner beast in him was refrained violently from nuzzling into the palm of her hold.

"Good night," she said softly, pulling her hand away and leaving the car. She didn't look back as she walked the steps to her front door, but knew he had driven away once she was safe inside her own home. Her father was seated in his recliner in the living room and she believed that Mr. Gold thought it best if it wasn't known that he had been the one to take her home.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that my timeline of events in the real world are inconsistent to canon of the show, but then again, this entire story is AU, so I ask that you just "go with it". Enjoy!

Ch. 7

"I've told you before, dearie, just come on in," Mr. Gold said opening his front door and stepping aside to allow Anna, Belle, to enter his home. The lair to the beast. As she entered the foyer, taking a few steps passed him, he added, "You are the only one I expect at this hour on a Sunday morning."

Though he loved opening the door to reveal a stunning angel standing before him in wavy brown locks, a slight smile and blue eyes the color of a clear day's sky, he felt foolish to have to greet her in such a routine manner every time. When she was there, he practically gave her the run of the house, allowing her to go anywhere she pleased and help herself to whatever she chose in the kitchen. It seemed like they were beyond simple pleasantries of a slight nod and polite smile, whereas he considered just telling her where he had a hidden key in the event his door was locked. But, she being who she was, she refused to let herself in, when it wasn't her home.

Giving him a sweet sincere smirk that eluded to a hint of mischief, she quipped, "I always have to knock to make sure." She spun around on her heel as light as a ballet dancer on air and allowed him to assist her with removing her coat. Once it slid off her slender arms, he hung it on an awaiting hook next to his own black wool coat, admiring the way the two articles complemented each other hanging side by side. Once freed of her coat, she spun around again, clapping her hands together and started to walk backwards to still see him. "Besides, what if you had company leaving first thing in the morning? Wouldn't want that to be awkward," she chided, grinning and offering him a fresh wink.

He heard the playfulness in her voice and ducked his head away to hide a warm blush in his own cheeks, but kept a calm and composed exterior as the sound of his cane clunked on the hard wood floor next to him. "No, dearie, you wouldn't be running into anyone like that," he said, following behind her.

The idea of keeping company in that fashion was not his style; he was a lonely man, but no longer a desperate one. There wasn't anyone in Storybrooke that turned his fancy or delighted his heart. So long as Anna, Belle, was not wearing a wedding ring, he would stay a celibate man with exceedingly high standards. Even if the scorching feeling of having your own heart ripped out and kept in a far off place, never to be held or whole again was the end result, Mr. Gold would weather the emotional storm.

"That so?" she charmed, disappearing into his library. Her loose waves flew around her shoulders as she glided around the room giving the illusion that she was weightless. Her voice was lighthearted, teasing like a sprite. "No special lady these days?"

"No, I'm afraid not," he drawled, keeping his eyes low to hide his honesty and keep his dignity. He did not wish to give off any impression to her either way. His minimal words made him acutely aware of the truths he was speaking.

Anna sensed his solemn thoughts, taking notice she had obviously put him in an uncomfortable sense of peace. His shoulders slumped, even from his normally proud stance it was She watched as his shoulders slumped, even from his normally proud stance, it was evident she had touched on something delicate. He balanced his weight forward, both hands on the top of his cane, his chin down and his eyes to the floor.

Feeling the need to comfort him, like she'd wanted to all along, she recognized the window of opportunity when it presented itself. She hugged the books she was handling close to her chest like a shield into battle and cautiously approached him, closing the distance between them. Mustering up that bravery from the other night, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat and licked her dry lips and proceeded to raise a hand and rest it gently against his chest.

Like a punch in the chest, he was breathless from the gentle gesture and pressure over his heart. He looked up and immediately his eyes locked with hers, creating a serene peaceful beam of confidence that was apparent neither one wanted to break. Their connection was ancient, mutual and familiar. Mr. Gold had no problem placing the time and place, but the puzzlement over her features was unmistakable.

Anna recovered quickly and refocused; her eyes back on him, rather than through him as if she'd been searching for answers from his soul. She lightly shook her head and continued, "Something tells me you're shielding yourself." Calming warmth radiated from him under her hand and she slowly slid her palm down his shirt, feeling the contours of his chest, not understanding the magnetism he suddenly wielded over her. She refocused again, baffled and conflicted, but fearless just the same to convey what she intended, "You have walls all around you. They do not need to be there."

Mr. Gold was captivated by her boldness and courage to test the boundaries, even if it was nothing more than the subtle gesture of physical comfort. He saw in her eyes the battle she was having from within; trying to decipher what it was that they shared. It was as if she was almost there, like she was remembering, like she was seeing their past together in his eyes, reaching for that small sliver of memory that refused to allow entrance into Pandora's Box of past lives.

His heart called to her, extending a metal limb for her to grasp onto, hoping that she would pull through to the other side, but it was still so uncertain. He wanted it to be her, he willed her courage to keep going and as a last resort, he threw caution to the wind and whispered, "Belle-". He clenched his teeth and bit his tongue, secreting chastising himself for speaking her true name aloud.

"Yes?" she answered, her eyes locked on his with an unbreakable gaze.

His heart nearly stopped, his blood chilled and he felt tightening in his stomach binding itself into knots. He held his breath, searching in her eyes for affirmation that she was there, that she was really there. He was weakening; her touch now burning into his chest like a branding iron and the last of his resolve was slowly slipping away. He chanced a touch and lifted a hand to rest over the one that was placed against his chest, thankfully, she did not flinch.

It had been only a flicker and as brief as it was, it was gone. Like mist evaporating into the air that surrounded them, any sort of recollection or inkling of a memory had vanished. She offered a slight grin, melting into the place she was before the enchantment. Her eyes warmed, but they weren't as transparent as they once were mere seconds ago. "What?" she asked with a self-conscious giggle. "You know my real name, Annabelle," she smiled wider now.

"Sorry?" he asked dazed, mentally unclear. He was trying to see what his heart wanted so very badly.

Their eyes were still locked, but as they were once connected, there was casual distance between them. Still, Anna, Belle, extended such a genuine softness towards him; it was an easy transition to revert back to the reality of the situation. "Very few know my real name," she finished quietly.

Mr. Gold finally forced himself to pull away from her, averting her eyes to the room around them. Once their connection had been broken, at least the impending magical one, he chanced a glance back to her and corrected himself, "Anna." Her true beauty, her pure heart, he was forever to be undeserving of her in whatever context in this world or the next. Still, he pressed on, his hand still placed gently over her own that remained against his chest. He slid his tongue over his lips before speaking to her, "I do have walls. After so many years of being a certain way, I doubt even you would be able to penetrate them."

Their gaze remained confident, exchanging friendly, cordial nods, politely squaring off. Regrettably, her hand was released and it retreated back to the books currently clutched against her chest. She lowered her eyes and turned back around to the necessary task at hand. Their mutual silence was accepted and he turned to leave her with her thoughts and the great task at hand.

"We will see about that," she said aloud, watching him pause only momentarily in the doorway to absorb her final words.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o 0

Thursday afternoon, Mr. Gold was a man alone with his thoughts. Sadly, a man alone with his only company being his own mind was not always the best company to keep. Like a hurricane of concerns, deals, rental improvements, property investments and Baelfire flew through his mind like a windstorm. Keeping quiet and composed, he had mastered the mask of a collected man very well. Like a fortress that was unable to be penetrated by the wickedest of foes, he remained hard as steel and strong like a well rooted tree. He was not easily taken down...unless it was her.

The little bell that hung over the door of his shop jingled, alerting him that he had a visitor. He took a moment away from polishing a tarnished brass chalice to offer a greeting. Once he met her eyes, something warm encompassed his heart, allowing the sensation flow through him freely. As if his old heart couldn't skip enough, his shop came alight with a beautiful energy that was true to her name.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gold," she smiled, nodding her chin properly, as if their politeness was always an unnecessary rouse.

"Miss French," he nodded back, matching her. For a moment, he set down his rag and watched her; his elbows resting on the counter top. He had shed his suit jacket, revealing a dark red shirt with black tie; he wore matching sleeve garters high on his arms. He was acutely aware of how much he watched her, but lately she hadn't been bothered by it in the slightest. If anything, she often caught his glances and met him with a smile, nearly a flirtatious one, which quietly told him she otherwise didn't mind his eyes on her. In a subtle way, she almost invited it. Careful, man.

"And what is it today-" he began, but was quickly cut off with an erratic entrance by a panting breathless woman.

"Anna!" Mary Margaret said. Her hand against her chest as if she'd been sprinting down the sidewalk. "My goodness, you are quick!" Once she had the brunette's attention, Snow White smiled warmly first at her, then over towards Mr. Gold. It took her a few seconds to observe the interaction between the florist's daughter and the pawnshop broker. She looked at the flower in Anna's hand and then back to Mr. Gold, who had since resumed the mask of business owner, elbows off the counter. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Like watching a very short tennis match, her eyes flicked between the two, unprepared for the sincerity they seemed to share, if that's what it was.

"No, can I help you with something, Miss Blanchard?" Mr. Gold asked immediately, extinguishing any potential misconceptions. Smoldering cinders stoked his fire of irritation over the interruption, again, of his weekday brief encounter with the flower pruning moment. He valued every moment spent with Anna, Belle, that it made all other business with other townsfolk unnecessary. He would do whatever was in his power not to have her vacate his shop so quickly, if the business wasn't important.

Sensing Mr. Gold's urgency, Mary Margaret's mouth opened and closed as if meaning to say something, but otherwise just looked like a fish gasping for air. She knew he was a man not to steal time from, so she gave herself a mental shake and turned back to Anna, who was poised with a pair of sheers. She clipped away, a grin over her lips as she appeared as comfortable as if she worked there.

"Yes, sorry. Anna, I was trying to get your attention since you passed Granny's, but you were so quick to get down here," she said with a sweet genuine smile. "It's like you never even noticed me."

At the very same moment, Anna glanced over to Mr. Gold, finding that he also looked her way once her haste was mentioned. It was only seconds, but Anna was the first to look away back to Mary Margaret, feeling the heat of his stare almost too much to take in those brief moments. Anna tried to recover, "Yes, I must have been in another world. What's up?"

Meeting her with a smile, Mary Margaret continued, not noticing the exchange between the two of them. She handed over an ivory colored envelope with silver seal, "I'm having a holiday part and I wanted to give you your invitation. Bring Leo, it will be fun."

Lighting up, she set down her scissors to accept the invitation, "Thank you!" Mary Margaret twirled on her heel, light and airy, depicting the princess she truly was and walked over to Mr. Gold. Anna stayed standing by her flower, meeting his eyes across the shop and shaking her head wildly, mouthing the words, "No, I won't!" Mr. Gold ducked his head to avoid his smile being recognized.

The school teacher retrieved another envelope from the bag that hung over her shoulder and handed one over to him. She managed to catch his second subtle glance to the brunette behind her and tilted her head, curious about their private exchange. Very quietly, Mary Margaret leaned in and practically whispered, "I didn't know the two of you were friends."

Sensing those misconceptions, Mr. Gold was quick to quip, "Even I have my secrets, Miss Blanchard. I would think you, of all people, would appreciate their privacy." He politely took the extended envelope, nodded and thanked her.

Swallowing and licking her lips nervously, feeling slightly uncomfortable, Mary Margaret averted her eyes and asked, "So, will you come?"

He would otherwise rather pick snail entrails from the bottom of his boot than to feign politeness to an apartment full of those that owed him a debt. He wanted to say no, but as he glanced passed Mary Margaret to the beautiful beauty standing across his shop nodding in a very exaggerating manner, willing him what to say, he put on the most charming smile he could muster and replied, "Yes, I believe I will. Thank you, Miss Blanchard."

Feeling momentarily pleased, she smiled and spun around on her heel, eager to leave the awkwardness behind her. She bid Anna a good day, still curious what it was she had witnessed there in the shop and left in a blink. The little bell announcing her departure like the end of a scene from a play.

Once Anna and Mr. Gold were alone again, he waved his invitation in the air, grabbed his cane and limped to the otherwise of his counter saying, "Bah humbug." Anna then filled the silence with a small comfortable giggle.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The moon was nearly full. Its light was enough to guide any roaming late night dweller down a sidewalk to the nearest bar, unless they were at Mary Margaret's for the evening.

At her annual holiday party, Mary Margaret's apartment was decorated with pretty white lights, a Christmas tree in white and blue decorations, a tasty variety of foods, pleasant music, wine and filled with familiar faces of Storybrooke. The energy for the evening was uplifting and enchanting. Smiles completed laughter that could be heard from all corners of the large apartment, glasses clinked their cheers and a few adventurous ones attempted to dance in the small sitting area devoid of coffee table.

Anna, however, was being bad. Anna was being very bad.

Before she went out for the night, she made a point to accidentally not tell Leo about the party. She even went so far as to tell her own father that Leo was sick, which is why she was attending the party alone without a date while dressed in a red off-shoulder knee's length dress, complete with silver and diamond necklace with matching earrings.

Sure, it was a small town and small town people talk, but a small gathering at Mary Margaret's was hardly the scene that would entertain her fiancé'. Leo was more of a keg stand, frat boy party-type where he and his friends would play beer pong into the late hours of the evening, rather than a calming classy party that played old Christmas songs, had delicious treats displayed in holiday decor and only had wine and egg nog, with some hot cocoa for the kids.

Anna stood as part of a trio with David and Ruby, discussing the town library and its potential re-opening. Both looked to Anna for the possible librarian position that was sure to be offered in the classifieds. As they droned on, discussing the potential remodeling of the old building that had remained closed up for as long as they could remember; Anna kept a watchful eye on the front door of the "cottage-like" apartment. Not all the guests had arrived and it was nearly nine o'clock.

As the minute hand passed one minute over the hour, she started to get a disturbing sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Mr. Gold wasn't coming. She steeled herself with a phony smile to David, agreeing with him blindly and trying not to let her outsides match her insides. Thinking herself foolish, like what she was even contemplating on doing was absolutely absurd; she probably needed some kind of mini-intervention to cease her imagination and their wild thoughts. Her silly school girl crush was getting out of hand if she went so far as to tell her own fiancé', the man she was going to marry, love and cherish, that she was just going out with the girls. It was completely ridiculous to even fathom the very notion...

The doorbell just rang.

Anna stilled as if she were a creature trying to blend in with its surroundings as her eyes immediately went to the front door. Her breath caught in her chest, unable to blink or breathe, she waited. Waited until the crooning voice of Bing Crosby and David Bowie filled any silence, unable to move a muscle until Mary Margaret went to the door.

"Hello Mr. Gold, glad you could come," Mary Margaret greeted, opening the door wider to reveal the most feared man in Storybrooke wearing his long wool coat and black leather gloves. With the hand not on his cane, he presented his hostess with a bottle of wine and they shared pleasantries as he was welcomed in.

Anna excused herself from her conversation between Ruby and David, to pass behind the stairs and pretend to be somewhat unseen. Very carefully, she peered behind a couple of guests to see him removing his gloves and coat, offering them to Mary Margaret's awaiting hands as she had returned to him holding a glass of wine. He nodded politely and took the offered glass once free of his things and tucked a hand casually into his pocket as he took the first sip.

If the wheels in her head could turn any more, there would have been smoke seeping out of her ears. Anna carefully timed her steps, making sure the coast was clear, before venturing under very dangerous territory. She peeked once, twice and then finally slowly moved out into the open, pacing herself carefully and slowly, making sure she had executed her plan precisely right. She feigned interest in the portraits that hung on the walls, making sure her back was turned all times towards the front door, but with a very subtle "pushing of the strand of hair behind her ear", she was able to peek behind her to see if he was looking.

A quick glance overhead, making sure her positioning was near perfect, and she found the confidence to slowly sip her champagne, believing that her efforts had to go noticed. However, as she scanned the room in front of her, she saw that she was being noticed, watched even, by a pair of mischievous eyes. Her eyes locked with Dr. Whale's and a silent exchange was made acknowledging the other. However, from the female end it was unwanted as she could only hope she would fall prey to the other beast, before he figured out that she was alone without Leo at the party.

Mr. Gold glanced at his watch as he arrived outside the building of Mary Margaret's apartment. He had dallied longer than he wanted at his shop that evening, updating a contract that involved an unwed mother and her unborn child. Something he believed having the upper hand in beneficial to him, however finding a home for the babe was another deal waiting to be dealt. It could wait a few more days.

He entered the festive, yet calming, apartment that was indeed as enchanting as the old Forest in the late evening back in their old land. He had accepted the glass of wine, forcing himself not to see it as a threat and to accept the spirit as a delightment, rather than a weapon from a foe. Of course, Mary Margaret was far from a foe in this land or the other: he helped her find true love. Regardless, his senses were on high alert without the necessity of liquid courage.

Mr. Gold scanned the room, appraising faces and regarding them when it came time for a defense strategy. But, though he felt he was always at odds with everyone, his eyes scanned the room truly for only one particular face; an angelic face. A face that he had long since committed to memory, having first believed that she was once dead, no longer of this world or their old one and remained nothing more than a regret and flicker of what could have been.

As he traced the room high and low, the wine meeting his lips as he was deep in concentration, they fell upon the elegant woman that pressed her lips to her glass like she were laying them on a delicate rose petal. He could only see her from behind, but occasionally was able to catch a glimpse of her profile as she'd tuck a hair behind her ear. Her chestnut hair was half swept up in combs, as the longer tendrils rested over one shoulder, baring the neck of her left. Soft creamy porcelain pale skin was exposed, as small straps came over her shoulders to make up the top bodice part of her shorter dress. It accented her curves nicely, fanning out at the waist, putting her slender calves on display. She swayed slowly, tilting her head from side to side, just absorbing the ambiance like a dreamer lost in their own imagination would.

Just across from her, on the other side of the island, Dr. Whale was just pushing off of the counter to approach the single standing girl that had no escort. Like an eagle swooping in for its prey, Mr. Gold hastened his step, cane and all, to protect the young princess from the mad scientist. With one glance, Dr. Whale conceded to Mr. Gold's gallantry to come to the lady's side in an effort to protect her virtue.

"Good evening, Miss French," she heard his smooth accented voice charm, quietly thanking that he had come to her rescue, before Dr. Whale had sought out her company.

Turning around to face him, offering a warm sincere smile, she greeted him with a particular giddiness in her voice, "Good evening, Mr. Gold. Merry Christmas!"

As if the Gods were shining down on him, allowing him this one little blessing of having the most angelic creature bestow upon him her grace and kindness, he might have had a change of heart towards the nuns. It took bravery to speak to her, counting his breaths and having all his senses at peak performance, he managed a polite, "Merry Christmas."

Batting her eyes and feeling her heart rate increase just slightly, she gave him an obvious once over, "I was beginning to think you were going to change your mind about attending this little soirée."

He looked away for a second, aware of her playfulness and hesitating to push forward, "Well, I didn't wish to disappoint."

"Don't worry, you didn't," she replied, being coy. He resisted biting her lip, she was so nervous.

Mr. Gold just barely heard what she said and dared a glance, "Miss French, might I be so bold to say that you look positively lovely this evening?"

As his words left his lips, he felt something pull within him. It was a connection to the young woman that he knew existed, but had never felt so strong before in this world. Could it be that they were finally acknowledging the attraction that they shared so many years ago? Could it be that some sort of hidden magic between them was slowly bubbling to the surface, breaking through these two faux lives they led?

At the compliment, Anna's cheeks blushed a beautiful hue of pink he had ever seen. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes and gave a barely audible whisper of thanks. Though she was beautiful and named after so, it appeared that neither Anna nor Belle was used to receiving compliments she so well deserved. Mr. Gold made a mental note to remedy that every opportunity he had.

"Well, I'm glad to see you here, Mr. Gold. Actually, I'm thrilled to see you anywhere out and about that are not your home or the pawnshop. I hate that you hole yourself up from the world, not venturing out as much as you should."

He let out a low chuckle, raising his glass to his lips and narrowed his eyes on her like a wolf to his prey, "Oh, I venture out, Miss French. It's just that I normally do it alone...at night...in the woods."

The storyteller was enchanting her once again and she couldn't resist his temptation, "Up to mysterious things in the dark forest, are we?"

"You have no idea, dearie," he replied with a twinkle in his eye that forced the shadow of a smile pass over her lips. Anna licked her lips nervously, her mind completely on the leafy green holiday piece that hung over them. "So, where is your precious fiancé' this evening? Is he around?"

Like having ice water poured down her back, her skin tingled and she was whirled out of her mental exploration in such a flurry he should have been slapped for bringing Leo up. Appearing a little embarrassed, she shook her head, "No, he's not here. Out with friends, I imagine. This really would not have been one of his things. It's more one of mine, rather than his."

As he was about to say something to her, he was immediately cut off with an alerting, "Hey Goldy!"

The slurring blonde whirl of waves and white cashmere that wore the deputy badge on all other nights was just approaching them and it appeared that she was in a very very good mood. Her voice was boisterous and assertive with a hint of playfulness. Her walk was mostly steady, but her wild flinging limbs told another story regarding her balance. Her eyes honed in on the most powerful man in town and she came at them with the determination of settling a disagreement. One of the flailing arms found their way around Mr. Gold's neck, where he immediately appeared uncomfortable and somewhat cautious, when she gave an innocent toothy grin as she leaned on him for balance.

"Did you know that you are smack dab under the mistletoe in my apartment? I have had about four of Mary Margaret's egg nogs and I have to admit that after that many, even you are starting to look like my type."

"Miss Swan," Mr. Gold started, offering his glass for Anna to hold, as he very carefully removed Emma's limb from his around his neck like a scarf.

"Hey, Goldy, you're the one standing in the wrong place. It's custom!" and before he could even prepare, Emma laid a kiss on him so hard, she nearly sucked his lips off. With a very loud "smack" and a few heads turning and snickering in their direction, Emma pulled away and said, "Well that was surprising!"

When Mr. Gold managed to free himself of the deputy, he glanced around to make sure no one else was coming his way and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a handkerchief. With a flick of his wrist, the square opened and very politely, as if he'd just finished a meal, dabbed at his lips to clean himself of the slobber Emma left behind.

Anna, who proceeded to affix a permanent grin on her face, let out a wide open laugh with the scene the two had created. She took a step closer to him and offered him his wine glass back as if rewarding him like a true champ for taking one for the team. "Are you alright? Need another? Should I inquire on sessions with Dr. Hopper for you?"

Composing himself, he straightened his shoulders and gave an evil sneer upwards to the guilty mistletoe that hung innocently above him. He cleared his throat, took a sip and said, "That was very unusual."

Continuing to extend mental support over the ordeal he had just endured, she offered a quiet and meek, "Merry Christmas?"

He managed to find it difficult to abstain and hinted a smirk of his own, "Indeed."

When she caught his grin graduating into a smile, she admired the slight age lines around his mouth and eyes and couldn't help but believe they made him look so much more distinguished. They offered a boyish appeal to him and he couldn't appear any more handsome to her, even if he tried. A smaller frame than what she was normally attracted to, he provided a sense of equality and balance to her that she found absolutely stimulating that far outweighed physical attributes. Even as an engaged woman, she could at least extend herself as a friend and make a mental challenge of trying to make him smile more often in order to retain that boyish appeal.

The two shared a brief laugh, nodding to one another to be polite, when Mr. Gold remembered what he wanted to give her. He casually slid a hand into the pocket inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope and handed it her way.

"What's this?" she asked, perking up an eyebrow.

"It's a Christmas present," he replied, sipping from his glass and glancing to a few guests nearby. He certainly didn't need anyone else to witness his charity.

"But...why? No," she quickly corrected, shaking her head and attempting to hand back the envelope. He was quick to push it back to her. "But, Mr. Gold, I didn't get you-"

"I don't want anything, nor do I need anything, dearie," he replied simply. "This is my gift to you. For all your help with my library. You won't let me pay you-"

"I won't let you pay me, you're right," she was quick to interrupt; her heart pounding over the gesture. She knew that whatever was in that envelope was something she believed to be ungrateful for.

"So, I'm sneaking it in as a holiday gift," he insisted, pushing her hand away, allowing his fingers to briefly glide over the back of her hand in his refusal. "Therefore, you can not say no."

She tilted her head, biting the inside of her cheek and shaking her head, feeling completely undeserving. She couldn't be rude and reject the gift, so instead she very carefully opened the envelope to peer inside. Already believing that it was a check of some sort, she saw the long piece of paper inside, written in his handwriting, made out to her, in the amount of... "Holy shit! Mr. Gold, I cannot take this, it's too much!"

With a gentle shushing to her, afraid anyone would be eavesdropping on their conversation, he patted her wrist and insisted further, "Anna, please. It's for your wedding."

At those words, Anna froze as still as a statute. Her heart pounded quickly, thudding against her chest like a gong, reverberating against her bones. Suddenly, her throat felt dry and not wine nor water could quench her need, for it was a strong slap of reality that she was intended to marry Leo. His gift to her in a rather large sum of money was intended for the inevitable. The inevitable. The impending marriage to Leo. She was to marry Leo. She wasn't going to be allowed to pursue a friendship of potentially something more with Mr. Gold, even in her wildest fantasies. Leo and Mr. Gold were on two different ends of the spectrum entirely and she just stood there, frozen like an animal in the road meeting headlights, absorbing Mr. Gold's words: it's for your wedding. 

Those words felt like lava in his throat as he forced them out. The inner pain he was feeling was like his own dagger going into his chest, carving out his heart and showing him the blackened remains of what was left. By handing her that check, it was like he was offering his blessing for his true love to marry someone other than him. The reality of this world still stood and though he did not retain any magic, the least he could do was try and make her happy with the power he did wield.

"On that special day, Anna," he choked, "you deserve to be treated and look like the princess you truly are." He swallowed hard, keeping down what was left of his pride.

Neither words nor emotions could speak what she was feeling down into her core. His gesture spoke volumes, his kindness to her was undeserving and his request to look like a princess melted her to a new form of puddle not even invented. He looked down at her, like a lithe knight in black Armani, grinning in such a sincere way it nearly made her break down in a fit of tears. Her newfound respect for him was overflowing with admiration that she wasn't quite sure how to thank him in the manner that would be deemed appropriate at their current state of friendship. Suddenly, the mistletoe that hung above them no longer seemed good enough.

Holding the mental white flag, indicating her defeat, her shoulders slumped and she let out a deep sigh. She clutched the envelope tighter and pressed it to her chest, showing him her utmost gratitude for the gift. She closed her eyes and mouthed the words, "Thank you." He didn't clearly say it, but she heard him say, "You're welcome."

Once it was clear that she was no longer attempting to give back the envelope, he prepared himself, again. "Now, there is more," he said softly, watching her eyes open slowly. "I want to give you something else," he raised a finger at the first whisper she was going to speak, immediately silencing her. He didn't touch her lips, but remained millimeters away, his finger poised. Her eyes pleaded with him not to be as generous with her, but her appeal was rejected. He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes on her once more, "It's something I've never given anyone in Storybrooke, before." Anna furrowed her brow curiously, looking him up and down and then behind him to see that he wasn't hiding anything behind his back. "You have to promise not to give it to anyone else, though."

Her curiosity turned to worry, as if he doubted her about anything. As if he would believe that a gift from him, in addition to the rather large one he just handed to her, would be passed on to another; regifted as they say. Where had she gone wrong to put any suspicion or uncertainty in herself that she would even be teased with the notion? Had she said something? Had she done something wrong? Was she as undeserving as she insisted she was?

Her mouth gaped slightly open, baffled by his request that she managed only a quiet, "I promise."

Once he saw that he had her trust, he lowered his finger that had hushed her and took the smallest step forward to her. She stilled; her eyes wide and her heart open and thumping fiercely. She wanted to glance above them to the mistletoe, but she had no time. She didn't want to penetrate the gaze they held on each other, now only a few inches away. He was standing in her personal space; Anna looked up into his face seeing every crease, every age line, and every blink. Her hands clutched desperately to the envelope still held over her heart and she practically trembled like a frightened, albeit anxious, small animal. Eyes on his, she nearly never blinked and almost definitely forgot to breathe.

Mr. Gold leaned in, his lips just before hers and he watched her eyes close slowly. Did her lips just pucker? He bypassed her lips, swept across her cheek and whispered into her ear, "Robert." Anna's eyes flew open and she turned her head to better see him, saddened, but still elated. "It's my name," he explained, "Robert."

His name. He gave her his name.

She was speechless. Words were one thing, but knowing a name was power and it was something he had never given anyone else in Storybrooke. He was known to be a private person, a very private person and he was allowing her to step into his home, his world, and his mind with a single name. He was a man with many layers and she felt like one layer at a time was peeling away for her, trying to unveil the person that lay within.

Her eyes were on his intently, trying to read what was unspoken. He was just as quiet and still as she, barely moving away, sharing the same air that filled their lungs. His cologne permeated her senses, bewitching her. Her mind focused on the holiday decor just about their heads, they were so close, temptation a mere flutter as the two quietly came to the realization that it could happen. Feeing bold, Anna placed a hand against his chest, her fingers sliding over the silkiness of the tie he wore. She was connecting them, building a bridge into the inevitable that they were about to cross a certain kind of taboo.

"Hey, Anna!" a voice called to her from across the room like a fog horn at a football game.

As if they had been whisked away in a bubble to a dream-like world the consisted of only their imaginations, the pin prick of Leo's voice destroyed its existence. Her heart stopped and she put space between them again, like they were two moths to the flame about to get burned. Her eyes fluttered, clearing her mind and its path from the enchantment, wishing to vanish from the place she stood. Finally, her eyes squeezed shut, trying to remain the dream and not awaken to the nightmare. Trying desperately to rekindle the burn she savored beneath her skin, the surrounding noises of the party happening around them brought her out of her fog.

By opening her eyes, her dream had dissipated like mist. Her hand was still holding against his chest and as their world came crashing down, her hand slowly slid away as she turned to look towards the newly arrived. Her "beloved" stood near the front door of the apartment looking uncomfortably awkward and incredibly out of place like a gorilla at a wedding. He looked hesitant to step over the threshold, appearing like if he did, he would immediately turn into a stuffy yuppie with no sense of fun.

Leo took a big overdramatic step through the doorway, like he had just walked on hot coals barefoot, only to come out unscathed. Smiling for himself, he quickly started to scan the rest of the party for any other familiar faces he'd recognized. Once he had concluded a definite no, he called for Anna again as if he was shouting across a football field and it was impossible for her to hear or see him over the other guests.

"He found me," Anna said quietly, once her hand had slid all the way off of Mr. Gold's tie and jacket.

Mr. Gold's lips firmed to a thin line, disappointed that they had been interrupted in the moment they were obviously connecting in and it was all he could do not to snap the stem off his wine glass he was gripping it so tightly. He averted his eyes and just said, "He beckons." His tone was firm and annoyed, as if dismissing the company as easily one would a fly, but this fly seemed a bit more persistent.

Without so much as saying the actual words, it was evident that he was almost expecting that she choose. Choose between going with Leo, or keeping company with him. Of course, there was no denying the attraction she was secretly harboring for the older, much more refined, man. But, Anna had to be responsible and do the right thing; do the thing that was expected of her.

She looked back at Leo, the obnoxious thick-headed jock, then back to the well-dressed distinguished man with a gold handled cane that actually looked at her, not through her. There honestly was no contest to which she should choose, but her obligations could not be broken. So, with a deep strong regret in her heart, she bowed her head and started walking across the room to where Leo stood. After a few steps away from Mr. Gold, she already felt cold and uncomforted, like she had broken that connection they had done so well creating. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and he wasn't looking at her, but looking at the floor, his head hung low with a face of disappointment. A nervous knot settled inside of her and it was a mixture of conflict and allure, making her believe that she could be brave and that she could overstep her boundaries.

Another glance to Leo and she noticed he was preoccupied with the crumbs from whatever it was he had shoved into his mouth that had affixed themselves to his shirt and was diligently dusting them off. Realizing her opportunity, Anna quickly retreated the few steps she had taken away from the pawnbroker and closed in on his personal space; the fabric of her dress brushed over his hand that gripped the handle of his cane, alerting him of her brief return. She knew she only had seconds to act, so with an unnecessary glance over head to the mistletoe, she leaned in and whispered 'thank you' and left a kiss on his cheek.


	8. 8

Ch. 8

It wasn't any kind of winter wonderland by any means, but there wasn't much left of Storybrooke that hadn't been touched by white flakes or iced over from a standing puddle. The treetops, windowsills, and sidewalks sprinkled with snow did add a touch of magic to the little old town; something several of its residents desired. Children played in the fluffiest of mounds, while snowball battles ensued from behind the safety of poorly built forts.

In the pawnshop, Mr. Gold sat at the desk in his back office. It was currently covered in newspaper to protect it from the project at hand. Open jars of varnish and paint brushes were at the pawnbroker's, now craftsman's, disposal as he centered an old wooden bowl with intricate carvings in front of him. He wore rubber gloves, his already stained apron and a small mask that covered his nose and mouth. Like an artist enchanted by his muse, he picked up a brush and carefully dipped it into the closest jar. He lightly placed it upon the bowl beginning a long slow stroke to cover his first trail of the bowl. He was so concentrated on the task at hand, that the small jingle of his bell indicating he had a potential buyer never even fazed him.

"Just a minute," he called out as he finished the line of his third stroke. His voice sounded muffled behind the mask he wore, but he was heard clearly.

"I'd wait forever," Anna said pushing the curtain back to poke her head through to see him.

Hearing her voice was heaven enough, but hearing how she'd wait forever for him just teased his old heart enough that he couldn't help but grin as his eyes glanced up. She smiled when she saw him busy at work, taking mild interest in the task currently stinking up his office and then covering her nose from the fumes.

Not wanting to take any chances that his damsel should faint from his handy work, he flicked his wrist to shoo her away as if she were a child, making her retreat back into the shop. After giving him a playful eye roll, she twirled away in a flurry of brown waves and disappeared back behind the curtain.

He was eager to finish up his project, but knowing Belle was just on the other side of his curtain made him forgo the task at hand. He yanked off his rubber gloves with a hard snap like a doctor finishing up after surgery and removed his mask, tossing them both on his desk. He abandoned his apron and left his coat to lie on the back of his chair. He reached for his cane and exited his office to meet his beauty.

She wore a white sweater dress with white leggings and black boots. Her hair was pulled together in a loose braid, falling down the center of her back. Her womanly form was displayed modestly, screaming the innocence she still harbored deep down. A beautiful form for a beautiful mind, he was foolish to ever believe she would have given herself willingly to him. Still, he was not blind to catch the glance she gave him over her left shoulder as he emerged from his cave, doing her best to hide the hinted smirk whispering over her lips. He loved the way he was able to make her smile or, even better, smirk. A smile was a declaration of adoration; a smirk was the secret of affection. Mr. Gold liked to believe he was powerful enough to make her emit a smirk in this land, like he used to in their old land.

"I don't know about you, Robert," she emphasized using his name, "but today would be a day that I would curl up with a book by the fire and never go outside." He started to make his way to her around the shop, keeping the counter between them. She kept glancing to him as she clipped away at a new flower, her eyes taking him in as he approached her. She couldn't help but admire his lean physique as he wasn't wearing his suit jacket, but just his charcoal colored buttoned shirt and maroon tie with gold arm bands.

"I have to say that days like these," he motioned to the dreariness displayed outside the shop windows, "are favorites of mine."

"Don't tell anyone," she leaned closer to him, as if she had a secret to tell, "but they are to me, as well. I've been known to get completely behind, because of days like these."

"Well, until they reopen the official library, you're always more than welcome to have my newly organized one at your disposal," he said.

Anna, Belle, grinned as she welcomed the alluring temptation, replacing the sheers in their normal spot for her next visit. Her eyes fell onto his cane that leaned against the other side of the counter, the side he was on and she pondered a thought.

"Speaking of, it only just dawned on me, about your leg..."

"What about it?"

"How do you intend on getting up on that ladder?" she asked with a smirk; her eyes glanced between him and the flower she held.

"Well, I suppose," he charmed, "that I'll have to have you get a book down for me." He did not believe the ladder would ever be an issue, but he humored her just the same.

Ball: served. Her court.

Anna was subtle, but she tested herself just the same. She licked her lips and tilted her chin, playing coy, "Does that mean you intend to keep me, Robert?"

Ball: his court.

On his left shoulder sat a little man in a gold suit with wings, halo and cane and he was smiling sweetly to the pretty girl. He was warm and welcoming, not at all like his counterpart that sat on the other shoulder. That little man wore a black and red suit, had horns, a tale and a pitchfork. His tongue flicked out like a lizard and his mind was full of dirty sexual things he wanted to do to Belle whether he had her consent or not. He was conflicted, unsure whether to answer friendly or genuinely. He had to choose wisely, play his game carefully, or else he might miss his opportunity.

Either way, his heart raced like a marathon runner, so he chanced a combination of both, "Sweetheart, I would if you'd let me."

Ball: her court.

Simple words bound her tongue, unsure how to proceed. He seemed sincere, but his answer could easily have been misconstrued. Still, her heart fluttered like a canary locked in a cage and though she feared reality and its cruel twist on the hopeful, she chanced it.

"I would stay," she said quietly and as clearly as she could.

The silence paralyzed him, making him acutely aware of the sound of his own breathing. The hand that gripped his cane tightened as if bracing himself for the downward plunge of a rollercoaster. His own game had him placed in a corner and he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. He knew she was waiting, her inner eye watching him carefully, and she deserved some sort of answer, so he stuck to what he knew.

He released his cane and presented both hands to her, flourishing his fingers before her and smirked while giving a sly wink. "Keep you away in the castle, like the pretty beauty in Beauty and the Beast?" he teased with a raised eyebrow. He knew she was sucker for a fairytale.

"You're hardly a beast, Robert," she playfully replied, biting her lower lip and averting her eyes to the flower at hand.

He leaned in, as if to tell her a secret, "Who ever said I would be the beast?" She immediately shot him a look of playful daggers, followed by a proper swat to his left shoulder. Once her smile was evident, he leaned in, but at only a polite distance, "Did you have a nice Christmas, Anna?"

Anna slid the rose into the slender vase, touching its petals as if to assist it with its bloom and tilted her head in thought, "Papa and I worked. Many flower deliveries, very very busy, so there wasn't a lot of time to sit back and relax and just enjoy the holiday." Mr. Gold nodded, unconsciously clearing the counter of any small debris from the flower for lack of other business to do with his hands. "I remember when I was little how exciting Christmas used to be. It would be me, papa, my mother and so many presents." Mr. Gold smiled, wondering if her manufactured memories were anything like her real memories from their old land. "Funny though, thinking back, it's almost like watching an old movie of another life, because as much as I miss those days, they don't seem exactly right. Does that make sense?"

"It makes more sense than you know, Anna," he replied, not questioning her at all.

She shook her head, trying to regain focus from her trailed thoughts, "What was your favorite Christmas, that you can remember, Robert?" Preparing for a story of some sort, she leaned on her elbows over the counter and her eyes came alight with prospect of learning some of his personal memories.

He watched as she settled before him, waiting for him to speak and share more of himself with her. He'd seen that look on her before. He was seated at the head of his dining room one afternoon and she was propped up in front of him, ankles crossed and swinging her legs over the side. She was a vision in his dreams and even as black hearted as he once was, visually representing the Dark One with his golden ashen colored skin, she still looked upon him with innocent eyes. Mr. Gold's thoughts wondered how much she actually may have remembered, so he searched his memory bank for something to tell her.

He looked down to his folded hands on the counter next to her, glancing at the large ring on his left hand and took a deep breath. "Christmas morning with my son."

Her eyebrows rose as she repeated quietly, "You have a son?"

She didn't remember. He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes low, trying to not reveal too much of his beaten heart. It was still difficult to speak about Baelfire, but he knew it would help the transition in the end, for Anna to know more about the Mr. Gold of this land.

"I do," he replied.

"Who is he? Have I met him? Is he in Storybrooke?" she rushed to learn more, imagining a younger and equally handsome version of him running around the small town.

"No, unfortunately," he said, shaking his head and holding a hand up to calm her. "He and I are," he paused to think of how to word it, "estranged." Immediately, her elated face fell to that of disappointment and sympathy for him. Her beautiful eyes twinkled knowing he had a son, but they were becoming watery over the idea of them being apart. Her pleading eyes encouraged him to go on with his story. "We had a falling out quite a bit ago and we haven't had an opportunity to reconcile."

He hadn't spoken about Baelfire with such honesty in so very long, that it was like reopening a wound that pricked with pain. It was with a very heavy heart that he was able to numb himself enough to not feel the honest emotional blow of what he had done. His curse, the very curse that prevented Anna, Belle, to know what they were to each other and allow them to enjoy their lives together remained intact and stronger than ever. Had he known she was still alive prior to making his deal with Regina, he would have amended it to keep her with him in every biblical sense.

She saw him struggling to meet her eyes, hearing his voice waver in emotion as he spoke. She could tell that his position with his son had more behind it, but she dare not pry. He was brave to reveal such a personal piece of himself to her, that it pained her for him to endure the loss of his relationship with his son. She felt a pull in her heart, believing that he needed some kind of reassurance, even if it was just in the form of a personal touch. So, being bold once again, she reached out to cover his hand with her own, gripping it to sympathize.

"Well, the only thing I can offer you is hope," she said quietly. "If you wish to see him, then you two will come together."

Mustering the strength to compose himself and put on a brave face, he tried to lighten his mood for her. With a distracting flip of his hair from his eyes, he met her warm ones and they immediately calmed him. "Do you, ah," he hesitated, "wish to have children someday?"

"Of course," she answered sweetly and squeezed his hand, "I honestly cannot wait to become a mother." Feeling the connection rebuilding again, she felt a warm glow in her heart towards the man she was learning so much more about and pushed on. "So, your son's mother was in to books?" He narrowed his eyes on her, unsure what she meant. "The woman you made the library for, was she your son's mother?"

A brief moment of shame passed over him, afraid that his answer might change her perception, but he needed to be honest with her. "His mother was my wife, but no she was not the one the library was built for. The woman I truly loved came long after my wife left."

Rather than letting go of his hand, after learned he had a stronger love for the second woman in his life over his son's mother, she tightened her grip on him. Apparently, she believed the truth he spoke from his heart was worthy of her respect. "You can't control who the heart falls in love with," she said.

After glancing down at their touching hands, he said, "You would make a wonderful mother, Anna. I have but one request, though, on that matter."

"Yes?" she asked nervously.

"That you give them your eyes," he requested, "and your passion."

She smiled, appreciating the compliments and feeling very unworthy of them. His intensity was hypnotizing and his mysterious allure nearly rendered her mindless over some of the things he would say to her. As if they were two souls that had met in another life, feeling a strong sense of familiarity, she was unable to put her finger on it.

Fearful of sounding like a loon, she chanced an understanding and allowed her curiosity to push forward. "Robert, forgive me for a moment, but do you sometimes feel like...like you don't belong here?" Mr. Gold considered her for a moment and gave a slight nod for her to continue. "It sounds silly, I know, and maybe it's from being locked up-"

"Don't say that," he quickly interrupted.

"Away then," she corrected herself, appreciating his defense. He gave her an approving nod. "I just feel very disconnected to many things and I think that's why I enjoy coming here so much. Things in this shop and in your home feel oddly familiar." She felt like she was rambling, going on and on with her train of thought, wondering if he was actually hearing her, or just humoring her. "Do you think that's strange of me?"

He had to admit that for a few minutes, he did tune her out, but only because he was absolutely hypnotized by the way her lips moved and her eye lashes fluttered. In the back of his mind, he was storing and processing everything she had actually said. Her voice was rhythmic magic to his ears, believing he would never tire of hearing it every day that he lived. She had the power to bewitch him to do unspeakable things, but her pure heart would never allow the mere notion. Once his name was said again, he finally came back to surface for air.

"Anna," he composed, "I do not believe anything you've said is strange. There are even times that I feel the same way, which might be the reason why I choose to remain a private person."

A wave of relief washed over her, feeling grateful that he didn't believe her crazy. "Well, it's good not to feel alone." They shared a mutual smile together. "I'm also very pleased that you trust me enough to let me in, even if just a little."

The winter wind outside started to kick up snow flurries and they started to brush over the front windows to the pawnshop. They booth took a moment to glance outside to survey the conditions, while their hands remained together on top of the glass counter.

Their chilling windy moment was interrupted by the sound of a buzzing coming from Anna's bag that was on the floor by her feet. She slid her hands away from him, missing the slight disappointment marrying over Mr. Gold's face, to bend over and cease her mobile and cease its obnoxious ring tone that had been chosen by default.

"I just got this thing and I've only given my number out to three people," she said, opening up her mobile to read its text. She gave a side glance to Mr. Gold, "well, now four."

"Your father?" he asked uninterested, secretly hoping that Leo was not one of the other three that had her number. He was only kidding himself.

"No, Ruby," she replied, not phased by his assumption. Her fingers furiously typed her reply, her brow furrowed deep in thought as she stared at the tiny screen. "We're solidifying plans for New Year's Eve."

Mr. Gold smiled and reached for his cane and pivoted on his heel to walk away down his counter; their little moment had long since faded away. Anna furiously text away, "I swear, that girl has more guy problems."

"Perhaps, one might call her a man eater," he quipped.

Anna whirled around to shoot him another look, seeing that he put a decent distance between them. Her fingers froze in mid text, "Hey now! She's my friend!" She knew by the smirk across his lips and his hands held up in the air to show his innocence, he meant no real harm. Her mobile chimed again, indicating another text was incoming and Anna shook her head, "And it appears that she needs me."

Anna bent back over and picked her bag up off the floor and slung it over her shoulder. She slipped her coat back on that had long since been discarded and wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck. As she slid her mobile back into her pocket, she walked over to the counter where Mr. Gold was. She gave him a mischievous grin, as if she was trying to size him up, immediately making him notice her playful change of character. When she reached the counter, she leaned over it, invading his personal space, in order to retrieve a pen and piece of paper from behind his register. Mr. Gold felt her nudge him, playfully pushing him out of the way as she rooted through his business area for the items, but he refused to move. After scribbling something down, she folded it up and dramatically placed it in shirt pocket, capped his pen and gave him a wink.

"Have a good night, Robert," she purred, but then immediately breaking character and giggled as she left the shop.

Allowing ridiculous images pass through his mind, Mr. Gold was cherishing the moments shared with Anna, Belle. Afternoons in the shop weren't so lonely with just the idea she might pop in.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

New Year's Eve

The little town of Storybrooke was lively and in excellent spirits as most everyone in the little town had gathered in the square. Booths were set up to assist in the festivities, providing spirits and different foods along with the random party hats and sparklers, to let in the New Year. All eyes were on the clock atop of the closed-up library for a couple of reasons: one, it hadn't moved in a very long time and two, it was currently keeping the time until the final countdown into the New Year.

The fire was warm as Mr. Gold put another log into the fireplace in his living room. He used the poker to spread everything amongst the hottest embers, making sure the heat was sustained. Settled in for the evening, he had absolutely no interest venturing off towards the center of town on eves of all eves. He had lived in Storybrooke for over twenty-eight years and not once was this evening recognized anymore than just another day for him. Holidays came and went, with Valentine's Day being the most difficult, so a new year was never truly acknowledged. Not to mention, he wasn't the most favored person in town, so his company wouldn't have been desired, or missed. Instead, he had prepared himself a nice large glass of brandy and a particularly rare cigar to indulge in, while the television was set on the mandatory channel with decent coverage of the way this world celebrated in New York City.

With nearly thirty minutes left on the clock for the remainder of the year, Mr. Gold was seated on his couch, cigar between his teeth and his lighter poised at its tip. Before the flame touched the freshly cut tip, he was startled by a knock on his front door. He gave an irritated sigh, assuming that the late night bother was probably some random prank the local teenagers had dared to follow through with before the end of the year. So, preparing to be the big scary beast he was known for, he set down his cigar and lighter, reached for his cane and cursed under his breath that using magic was frowned upon in these parts.

As he stood, making sure there was good placement of his cane to steady himself, he glanced towards the door for a hint of what was to come. At first glance, he believed his eyes were deceiving him that his imagination had, once again, gotten the better of him and was seeing something he so desperately wanted to. With a slight shake of his head and a quicker pep in his step, another careful look confirmed there was no mistaking the familiar feminine silhouette just outside his stained glass door.

Like a man seeing a mirage in the dessert that was desperate to quench his thirst, Mr. Gold hastened his steps to get to his door, to her, to get to his Belle. Upon opening it, there were no words to describe the flutter deep down or the ridiculous weakness she was able to conjure within the Dark One. At first glimpse, it was like meeting the siren at Lake Nostos all over again. Only this time, he didn't need to cast a sleeping spell over the beautiful faux Belle wearing the silver crystalline gown and diamond headdress in order to acquire what he had come for. But, oh, how that wondrous kiss and being dragged underwater had been worth a moment's hesitation before doing so.

Anna, Belle, was dressed in very formfitting leather pants, obviously Ruby's, a gold lame' halter top that sparkled as she moved, black heels and a very thick white coat attempting to keep her warm in her skimpy attire. Her face was down, her hands in her pockets and she fidgeted nervously when Mr. Gold's front door swung open.

"Good evening, Anna. Please, come in," he said, stepping out of the doorway so she could come in. She'd made this entrance so often, he considered just giving her a key.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" she asked eagerly, whirling around on her heel to face him. She was almost hopeful, as if looking for an excuse to leave and not go through with the reasons she had come to his house.

"No, of course not," he replied, closing the door behind him. He gestured for her to turn around so he could assist her out of her coat. "Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Anything stronger?" she sighed, shrugging her coat off in his awaiting hands before turning around to face him, revealing her full attire, or lack thereof.

"Yes, of course," he replied blindly as he hung up her jacket on his coat rack. Once he turned and began to take a step, his breath escaped him as his eyes feasted on her full attire. He guessed she was dressed for a night on the town, but the inner beast in him was not truly prepared for the display that had been hidden by her coat. He had already noticed the heels, and the fact that she was slightly taller than he was wearing them, but his eyes slowly traveled up the length of her slender legs in the leather pants, over her hips to the flimsy piece of fabric in the fashion of a halter top. He realized that he must have been staring, because all he could exhale was a very quiet, "wow."

Though Anna's attire had achieved exactly what she was going for, to get his attention, she hadn't planned on his stunned look to leave her feeling quite self-conscious and very guilty. Immediately, she felt the need to explain herself, come clean, and not give him the impression that this was at all normal for her.

"It's not really me," she tried to explain, "It's all Ruby's."

Composing himself once again, realizing that he was probably frightening her, his eyes once again met hers and offered a softer smile. "No matter, you look stunning," he comforted. "Now, how about that drink?" Sensing that his words were enough to soothe her, she offered a slight smile and turned around to step further into his house. Mr. Gold's heart finally gave out and he reached for the support of a nearby shelf, for the small piece of apparel she wore as a top had no back and revealed nothing but creamy pale skin that left his mouth watering and a severe tightness in his groin.

After a few extra seconds of composing himself, and a subtle adjustment, Mr. Gold took the longer way around through his kitchen to his modest liquor cabinet. As he poured her a glass of red wine, he heard the click of her heels come around into the living room and it brought comfort to him just with the sound. Just having her presence around him, brought a level of serenity he never believed he was capable of feeling again, and a growing warmth encased his heart. He knew he didn't deserve it, not with the dark magic that lay dormant within him.

He turned back around and carried the glass to her in the hand not holding onto his cane. "Have a seat, Anna," he gestured towards the couch. Thanking him, she made an assessment to where he was seated, indicated by the placement of the brandy glass and unlit cigar on the coffee table. She took the seat next to that spot and smiled as he made his way to join her on the couch. Once seated, he raised his own glass, offering a celebratory toast to her and said, "To a good year of new discoveries."

"Cheers," she replied and took the first sip of her glass.

When their silence was comfortable, allowing the television in front of them fill the voided noise, she snuck a glance his way to quietly admire the way he always seemed to dress so smart. Smiling to herself, she noticed that his dark slacks, dark fitted long sleeved shirt and gold tie would be a fair match to her attire, thus making them quite a fetching sight for a night on the town together. A far cry from Leo, her actual date, who was dressed in his classic baggy jeans and torn t-shirt while waiting for the celebration in the town square. Anna wondered if Leo even noticed that she had left.

"So," he started to say, "What brings you here, with fifteen minutes of the year to spare?" Mr. Gold started to relax comfortably, draping an arm along the back of the couch, enough that his fingers could reach out and touch the ends of her hair if he'd made the effort.

He looked suave and comfortable, like a master in his own domain, or a king in his own castle. Confident and handsome, Anna was enchanted by his aura and the mood the fire set in the room. He looked so inviting; Anna had to avert her eyes back to her glass after running them along his slender legs, over his belt, up his tie and settling on his wispy brown locks.

"I, ah, didn't notice you at the square for the New Year's countdown," she said, chancing another glance.

Watching her very carefully, mindful at how close his fingers were to her bare skin, he reined himself back in before making a very bold mistake. "Oh, now, I wouldn't be welcome to anything like that," he said, with another sip of his drink. "It's kind of a difficult situation when one owns the entire town."

With a hesitant understanding, she nodded, "I suppose."

Sensing preoccupation, Mr. Gold studied the way she seemed to be holding something back as she absent-mindedly turned her glass in her hand, watching the red liquid ripple with her movement. He inquired on the event at hand, even repeating his question, but it wasn't until he actually used her name did she finally hear him.

"Sorry?" she asked, looking up as if missing a very important question.

Anna, Belle, looked lost. It appeared that something was bothering her and as much as he tried, it was very difficult to read her. Her shoulders seemed tense, her attention elsewhere and as she turned her wineglass in her hand, it looked like she was preparing to get something off her chest or she had somewhere better to be. Whatever it was, it concerned him greatly.

"Everything all right, dearie?" he asked sitting up and letting a hand rest on her knee. It was a close call that his fingers nearly grazed the creamy bare skin of her shoulder.

With a deep nervous breath, she managed, "Fine, just anxious for the New Year." Shaking her focus from the glass at hand, she ventured upon a neutral ground, "Did you get any more books?"

"Actually," he started with a calm, comfortable voice, "now that you mention it, yes I did."

The library was Anna's special happy place. Being in there calmed her, seeing as she had such a hand at creating the energy and imagination that flowed through there, it was a place that quietly spoke to her core, allowing her the tranquility that was needed. This was to become her neutral ground with him and mustered the confidence to quickly stand and begin her way towards the hallway.

The clicking of her heels echoed off the walls as she walked and she realized that she wasn't hearing the subtle thud of his cane along the floor behind her. Stopping before she had left the room completely, she glanced back to see that he was still sitting the couch, his head down and staring into the contents of his glass.

At the abrupt cease of her heels, Mr. Gold looked up to see the curious look on her face on why he wasn't joining her. With a slight smile and a pointed finger towards her heels, he said, "I can't compete with those."

For a moment, she let her guard down and allowed herself a genuine smile. Shaking her head, she walked over to the nearest wall and unceremoniously kicked off her shoes, dropping down at least three inches, and crossed the living room to stand before him in bare feet.

Allowing himself a brief guilty pleasure of glancing to her pretty little feet with red painted toe nails, he scanned the length of her to be met with a very warm, albeit calmer, looking Belle. As if shedding a bit of the pretense had already lightened her mood.

"Shall we, Robert?" she said, holding out a hand to him.

Feeling that undeserving warmth again, he leaned forward and set down his glass. As he stood, getting a good balance on with his cane, he wasted no time from her and very coolly slid his hand into her awaiting palm. With a gentle squeeze, she welcomed his hold and slowly led them out of the living room and down the hallway towards the library.

They walked together in companionable silence, acknowledging that their newfound contact had softened the mood greatly. Though there seemed to be something stronger as they held hands, neither one of them said a word to break up the tension that was obviously building as their hands were joined. Something unable to explain, other than the obvious conclusion that it just felt natural to be doing it.

Mr. Gold watched as she went ahead of him, releasing his hand once she laid her eyes on the stack of new books on the small table by the fireplace. Her eyes lit up, elated like a child seeing presents on Christmas morning, and he wasn't about to keep her bound to him if that was their reasoning for coming in there. Though it could not exactly be said, it pleased him to know that he was able to bring her such happiness with the simplest of gestures. It was his form of magic for her in this world.

From the other room, "We've only got four minutes left until the New Year!" The announcer cheered on.

As she stood in the magnanimous room of stories, legends and truths, he selfishly allowed himself to take a mental living portrait of her. She was too preoccupied to notice his intense gaze as he committed every brown wave, every wide curl, the pale skin of her back, the curve of her hips, the length of her slender legs, the lift of her bosom and the peek of her toes to memory. He cherished the small moments they shared in his home that it rendered him weak and powerless enough to confess everything about the curse, his Bae and his past to her. He admired the way her soft skinned hands cradled the book she held, with slender fingers caressing the binding...when he noticed something significant missing from her finger.

"Anna," he chanced, "where is your ring?"

Their silence was broken by his inquiry, but it appeared Anna did not hear him. She turned the book over in her hands, browsing the cover, "Sadly, I think I've read this."

"Anna?" he asked again, his voice a little louder.

She nodded her head and looked at him, holding the book up in her hand, "Yes, I have read this. It's where the thief is his brother." Pretending not to hear him, she gathered the books together and walked towards one of the bookshelves, completely turning her back to Mr. Gold.

"Sweetheart, why are you not wearing your engagement ring?" This time, his voice was more assertive, but still sincere. Though he spoke clearly, there was still a hint of unsteadiness in his voice, like he was afraid to confront what he was secretly praying for.

At the plead of "sweetheart", she finally stopped her distractions. Every muscle in her body tensed, as if hearing something shatter behind her. She stood still, collecting her thoughts and trying desperately to sort out the scramble of excuses dancing about in her head. She was preparing her words carefully, steeling herself for the inevitable speech she had come there for, in the first place.

From the other room, the television blared: "...only two minutes until the new year, folks! Not long now..."

Finally, her stalling had come to its end and it was time to be honest with herself. Taking a deep breath, Anna set down the books she was clutching so desperately to on a nearby chair and slowly turned around to face him. Her heart pound hard in her chest, her hands felt clammy as she squeezed them into fists and her breath was shallow, as if all the oxygen in the room was quickly depleting.

He was no monster, she would never fear him, but the truth of the situation was nearly too hard to grasp. Finally, she allowed her eyes to meet his hypnotic dark brown ones and she began her confession. "The reason I'm not wearing my ring, Robert," she valued saying his name, "is because all I could think about was you... alone on New Year's Eve."

"I'm fine-"

"Let me finish," she quickly cut off.

Mr. Gold froze, silencing every muscle in his body from moving, twitching, blinking, or breathing. If his ears could open any wider, they would be inside out, for he was there for her with open eyes and a very open heart. He was not going to shut her out, again. This time, he would hang on every word, every syllable, and every breath until she said what she wanted. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and gripped the top of his cane tighter. And waited.

"Then I realized there was more. I wanted to be with you on New Year's Eve." When she saw him physically listening to her, she continued. "Every time I walked into your shop, I wanted to stay long enough so that you would tell me stories. Every Saturday that I came here for your library, my heart would flutter when you opened the front door. When I started coming on Sundays, I imagined us sitting together here by the fire just talking and when I would bring you a flower, I always wanted to show you how grateful I was that you got me out of that place." Anna held her breath and her eyes barely blinked as they bore into him, baring her soul to the illustrious pawnbroker. "Now, does that sound like a woman who is with the right man?"

The sound of her voice was like an angel singing from the heavens above. Not only was he pleased that he had won her, he was astonished that he had won her as Mr. Gold. A man without magic, without the wardrobe, without the trickery, without the curse...just an ordinary man. Her words burned deep, meeting his soul and conjuring up something he had long given up before: hope.

The silence between them had gone on long enough and he could not let Anna, Belle, believe that all of this had been one sided. Not when they'd come so far, not when they'd shared so much and not, even with a curse at bay, would they be held apart if they were meant to be together in any realm. His character, of course, had to be stoic, at least until his big reveal.

Mr. Gold reassured the grip on his cane and started to take a few small intimidating steps towards her. His face was harsh, but his eyes were soft and his voice came out low and raspy. "I'm a very feared man, dearie."

"I know," she replied in a soft meek voice.

"I have a lot of enemies in this town," he continued as he crossed further into the library.

"I know."

When he was right in front of her, he rested both hands on the handle of his cane before him. He glanced away for a moment in order to collect himself and said, "No one would approve of this."

With a strong resolve, she offered him an honest and pure heart; Leo never even came to mind. "I don't care what anyone thinks, Robert."

Finally, the last bit of thread that held him upright tore and he felt his shoulders relax with the understanding that he had won. He offered her the hint of smile and lifted a hand to cradle her cheek in his palm. "But, I would do anything for you, Anna."

Peace, understanding and acceptance met her entire physique as well and she lifted her hand to place against the one on her cheek, gently nuzzling into his hold. "I know that too," she said, pressing her lips against his palm. "And now, I just need to work up the nerve to kiss you, already."

"No," he said abruptly, shaking his head and freeing his hand from her grip. Her hand was still poised by her cheek, leaving her with a longing that utterly confused the sudden change of mind. But, in two swift moves, she was reassured as he dropped his cane to the floor and cupped her face in his palms, "Because, I need to be the one to kiss you."

From the other room, the TV blared: "Now's the moment, folks! 3...2...1...Happy New Year!"

Rumplestiltskin had waited long enough to kiss his Belle.

With no further hesitation, he moved in to press his lips softly against hers, pulling her in as close as they could allow. Within seconds, the passion that they harbored was surfacing quickly and he took no time to slide a hand into her chestnut waves in order to deepen their kiss. He felt her hands slide over his chest and behind his neck, where her fingers tangled into his locks. His second hand wandered along her waist, sliding along the small of her back where he was finally touching the creamy skin he had all been salivating for since she revealed herself at his door. Her body responded to his touch by pressing herself up tighter against him.

As if there was a quiet melody playing in the background, their lips slowly slid together with a comfortable tempo, dancing a dance they'd been longing to since the moment he invited her into his library. Two souls were reconnecting as two different lives matched up equally, giving way to desire and lust, finding the familiar old path. However, possession immediately took him over and he wanted nothing more than to keep her close and never let the beauty out of his castle again. Though his head was reeling and his senses tingled, he kissed her with such fervor that he was certain he was capable of devouring her right there in his library...if she allowed it.

Alas, the tempo of their oral dance was beginning to slow and the flames of their fire turned into warm embers, still alight, but beginning to subside. Their kiss slowly paced apart, leaving behind small tender ones, not wanting to release the other captor just yet. Their arms still held one another, limbs clinging as if their lives had long been separated and they were fearful to be torn away.

Anna rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed and the euphoric sensation of taking in his aura calming her like a peaceful drug. Her fingers continued to flutter the tips of his soft brown locks, not wanting to ever pull away from him, now that she had his arms wrapped tightly against her body. She listened to the sound of his breathing, feeling the feather-like touches of his lips to her cheek and to the side of her mouth. Finally, her haze swirling around her was lifting and her mind was able to see clearly again. Her heart warmed and the world around her started once again. Smiling to herself, she cherished their moment and time discovering each other, but it was evident that magic had indeed happened between them.

Lifting her head, she returned the featherlike kisses along his jaw and whispered very carefully into his ear, "You can call me, Belle." She felt his hold on her tense and he pulled back, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping. She curved her lips slowly and said, "I remember, Rumplestiltskin."

"Belle?" he asked nervously; his voice wavering. Could it be that their curse had been broken?

She smiled all knowing and slid a hand to his cheek, "You seem to have forgotten, True Love's kiss can break any curse." Leaning in again, she added, "I love you."

His face, eyes, cheeks, brow all broke into a strained grin, emotionally moved and desperately drained. His mouth moved, but no words came out. As if the light was finally shining down on him, as if he was granted that second chance, he was overjoyed with the outcome that his renovation had resulted in.

"...and I love you, too," he replied simply. Without another moment passing them by, he leaned in to kiss her once more, sealing the deal that their curse had, indeed, been broken.


End file.
